Wednesday, March 28, 2012


Some of the memories are hard to remember, not that I can't remember well but that I remember too well and some of them are just plain hard. I've decided that they're also too precious to forget. I'll record them here so my children and grandchildren can know even after I'm gone.

Boston, Keely's big brother, was not even 2 yet when she died. I remember him in his little suit at the funeral, the same one we'd purchased that year for him to wear at Easter. When we bought it we had no idea...

An almost two year old at a visitation for 2 hours then the funeral for another 1.5+ hours. Sounds like a recipe for disaster, doesn't it? But I couldn't bare the thought of having him far from me so we gave it a shot.

Between my sisters, parents, Nana, husband and myself, he was not only cared for but entertained and quite cordial throughout the entire visitation. He never caused a scene or threw a fit. And then the funeral came, when I *needed* to be able to listen to the words and let the tears flow so I could give her a proper goodbye. As we settled into our seats for the eulogy, he crawled into my lap and fell asleep before the first word was even spoken. Oh how I needed him there, just like that! He slept throughout the funeral, slept as I walked past her casket for the very last time and stayed asleep until we got into the car to go to the graveside service. I needed my living child, to feel his warm, deep breaths, to feel him curled up next to me and remind me that I was still living and needed to live for him, for his future. After everyone walked past the casket, he slept as his daddy carried his sister to the town car, a trip to her final resting place. Then, graveside, he just watched.

I don't know if he remembers any of the funeral, I don't think so. But I will remember for him, that even in his very early days, he knew just what Mommy and Daddy needed. I will be forever grateful.


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