I know we worked on more pictures and video stuff. I was stressing big time. Yelled at people. Stomped off to be alone. I felt awful. But I felt panicked and things were out of control. My emotions were spilling over! I wanted my son back! I didn't want this to be real! How could he be gone? I mean, truly gone? He didn't live at home anymore - so he just wasn't home. This had to be a joke!
Eventually the time came for us to head to the funeral home. Steve, Grace and I drove up there. I was super nervous. Did I really want to do this? Was I really going to see my son - my handsome, funny, loving son - in a casket?? This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. And yet....here we were. Standing at the funeral chapel doors.
The doors opened. The casket was at the very back (or front?) of the chapel. Yet, I could see his profile - his hair, his beard, his nose, clearly. There was no mistaking that profile. I collapsed against the wall and just felt....gut punched. The overwhelming emotions were there again - spilling out in giant tears, running down my face and onto the carpet. My heart was hemorrhaging and there wasn't a way to stop the bleeding. Steve rubbed my back. I felt terrible because I do not know how Grace handled it. She seemed strong - but maybe she held it together on the outside because I was falling apart? Maybe she was falling apart on the inside. I don't know.
I finally got up, and we made our way to the casket.
I've been to enough funerals, touched enough dead bodies to know - the skin doesn't feel like healthy, living skin. The body is cold. The face *never* looks like the living person did.
I reached for his hand - somehow expecting......warmth. It was ice cold. I yanked my hand back. It looked like him - yet - didnt. He didn't have his glasses. They were shattered in the wreck. I touched his face. I touched his head. It just didn't feel real. He felt.....well, he felt like a wax statue, or like plastic. I started talking to him. It was the only way I would get through this. I told him I loved him. I missed him. I told him about his clothes. Grace told him his hair was a mess. He had told me, the previous Monday, that he needed a haircut. Grace decided she had to do something about his hair!
Now, Tony hated Grace messing with his hair. But, my daughter loves doing hair and makeup. It's her passion. And she couldn't stand for this awful mess! The funeral director brought a comb and hair spray. It's all they had I guess. Well, she did the best she could - but really, he DID need a haircut! We figured, as much as he loved to torment her - as older brothers do - he could put up with a bit of a bad hair style for the eternity. Heehee! I buttoned up his vest and then started working on his tie. I was going to do a trinity knot. I had the youtube video pulled up. It's very difficult to tie a tie, when the person is not helping. It's hard to move. I ended up tying it twice but it looked GOOD! He would be proud of his mama tying that for him! We spent some more time talking to him.
Something else that happened - a little back story. Tony had a motorcycle. He had specific plans for it. To paint it red, with pin striping. We had a neighbor a street or 2 over from us that did that kind of thing. He had painted my husband's bike. And had actually painted Tony's tank red. Well, steve talked with him about doing a little pin striping on the casket. He said he would love to do it - and wouldn't charge us.
So while at the funeral home, you could smell the paint. So we found - at the foot of the casket, on the top - the pin striping. And it looked fantastic!
Eventually we all sat on the front pew and cried quietly. We could see Grace struggling quite a bit. That was hard to see. It's hard to see your kids struggle and be unable to help them. There is no ointment or bandaid or surgery to fix a broken heart. And this is one of the broken-est types of hearts. We didn't stay a long time. We came back home.
That afternoon, Grace and I took her car to Tony's apartment. We had decided on exactly the things we wanted to display and needed to finish getting all of that. Steve wanted me and Grace to go - so we could have that time together. Grace drove her car - so that Steve could take mine and get it washed and vacuumed. He had some errands to run too, although I can't remember what. We got to his apartment and - yup - still a mess. Ha! That boy! Grace had a laugh at the burned food on the stove. We started going through his things and packing up. There was a point however when I was done emotionally. When the depression and sadness hit me hard. I sat on his couch and hugged his pillow. I looked at all his things. Most had been given to him (furniture for example) but some he had worked hard for. Or had collected over his years growing up. Each item represented him - and the dreams and goals he had. The stage of life he was in. How he wouldn't progress any further here on Earth. He wouldn't go on to college (he had already worked in IT. He had been considering college in the fall - to pursue cybersecurity). He wouldn't eventually open his own fusion restaurant or be a pastry chef. (3 years in culinary in high school. He loved to cook and bake. He wanted to open a restaurant one day with Austin. Or be a pastry chef. Or maybe both!) He wouldn't settle down, get married, maybe have babies. He wouldn't be there to tell me jokes. Or explain math things to me that were way beyond my comprehension. (he used to say "math is my first language". He was super excited about some new prime number that had been discovered). He wouldn't show me videos on fractals. Or do yo-yo tricks. Or solve a rubik's cube in under 30 seconds. Or do some really neat magic trick - like fill an empty coke can and seal it! He wouldn't play cars or trains with his baby brother. He wouldn't give his sister a hard time, or jam to the beastie boys in the car at unbelievable volume. He wouldn't give me that "look" when I went to take a picture. Or give me a hug.
The sadness was heavy. Very heavy. The apartment no longer had his presence. Not like it did that first night. Now it was just sad.
Steve's post 3/21 3:18 pm "Today I experienced the most painful, yet beautiful moment that I have ever experienced in my life. Today, we saw you for the first time since you left. Two of the strongest women I have ever known stood to each side of me. I watched your mother tie the Trinity Knot in your tie, and button your vest. And I watched your sister comb and fix your hair. We spoke with you for a few minutes. We cried. We laughed. And we bowed before God, asked that he would give us strength, and watch over you until we meet again."
My post 3/21 4:17 pm "Today we went to see Tony - first time since the wreck. I keep saying the hardest moment for this or that. Fact is, they are all hard. It's interesting to see the shell of a body. Yeah, it looks like it. But not really. The soul changes a body - gives it life, personality. And that changes how you look. There's comfort in knowing his shell isn't really him. That he's all around me. He's in my memories. He's in my heart.
I learned to tie a trinity knot tho, so he could have a fancy tie knot, like he always loved. He'd be proud. Grace tried to tidy up his hair - he needed a haircut tho. But she did a good job."
No comments:
Post a Comment