A Doorway Cut in Sod
Ever since Tuesday morning I have been wanting to write about our sweet time at Micah's burial. It was truly so very good for our hearts to be there and actually place him in the ground next to Molly. There was finality, yes, but it was a good sense of closure.
We arrived at the cemetery a little before 10 and began filling some balloons with helium. We had just enough for two blue and two white ones. After tying on some string, we followed Pam, the funeral coordinator who helped us with Molly's burial less than a year ago, to the foot of Molly's grave. It was a warm and sunny day, much like it was when we buried Molly. Pam had set up two chairs that faced a little pedestal with Micah's little white box on top. Beyond Micah we could see Molly's marker, just a foot away. It was a perfect setup, yet perfectly horrible at the same time. I could not believe that we were there, again.
Pam stepped away from us to give us as much time as we wanted before putting Micah in the ground. We prayed together, and with tears pouring from my eyes I asked the Lord to weep with us, to hold us close, to heal our hearts. After we finished praying, I picked up Micah's box and just held it in my lap. So light, so fragile, so empty feeling. And it was empty. Yes it had our son's body inside, but the best part about him wasn't there. His soul and spirit is with Jesus and with Molly. Again, I just cannot believe it. Cannot hardly fathom the reality of where we sat.
We took turns holding the box and capturing those moments on our camera. Something to remind us that this was not a bad dream, but in fact reality. That we had buried a little boy of ours. After some time we each wrote on a balloon. Jake chose blue, as it represented his little boy, the son that he had. I chose white, for the purity and holiness of Heaven, the reality of where our son was and where we longed to be. After writing on the balloons we read aloud what we had written and then let them slip away into the light blue sky.
Then Jake took Micah's box and after we both hugged it tightly, placed it in the ground, inside a small concrete box. I knelt on the ground, kissed my fingers, and placed them on his box, whispering my love and good-byes.
A concrete lid was placed on top and then Jake took a big shovel and put dirt in the hole. The caretaker of the cemetery helped him finish and when the piece of sod was placed on top, I placed a single white rose tied with a piece of ribbon on top. I also put another white rose with ribbon in Molly's vase.
Our babies were home. Where their lives have truly begun and they are experiencing the joys and delights of purity and holiness. They are held close by Jesus and sung to by a choir of angels, free from the sin of this world.
Oh how I cannot wait to be there with them both.
Take us soon, Jesus.
Comments
~T. Rupp~
I do not know your family but have been blessed by the ministry of Family Life and hope to follow you on your journey until we hear of you singing the song of Hannah of old.
Blessings,
Hannah
Perhaps you are familiar with it,perhaps not but here it is:
'I once scorned every fearful thought of death
When it was but the end of pulse and breath,
But now my eyes have seen that past the pain
There is a world that's waiting to be claimed.
Earthmaker, Holy, let me now depart,
For living's such a temporary art,
And dying is but getting dressed for God,
Our graves are merely doorways cut in sod.'
Calvin Miller
It's like the Scripture in 1 Cor. 15:55 "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"