The Graveside Service

Saturday, February 5, 2011, at about 9:30a, we buried my little Eleanor. I still can't tell how I felt that day completely. I felt, so much, like I was playing hostess, even though no one expected me to, and I didn't have to do anything for them.

Allan, myself and our kids arrived at Palm Mortuary, on Jones and 215, 9:00a. When we left our house, it was beautiful outside. Tons of sunshine, no wind and a nice temperature. However, when we arrived at Palm, it was windy and really cold. When we arrived, we saw at least 60 family members waiting for us to get there. We walked up and were greeted by everyone, with warm hugs, well wishes and all kinds of love. We had no time to realize what we were about to do, because we were greeted with so much comfort and love. It was very sweet. Allan and I were a little awkward, because we weren't really aware that the tent and chairs were set up for one of our children to be buried. Everything was set up for us, not someone else. People had to tell me to sit down next to Allan, even.

I remember, as I walked over to the chairs covered in a blue, cookie monster fur, type of material, I saw the table that some flowers were sitting on. Not a huge spray of flowers, just a small one. As I made my way closer, I noticed the flowers were sitting on something. I sat down and looked directly in front of me, and there was the casket, on top of the folding table, with the small spray of flowers on it. It was, to say the least, bizarre looking. This table was huge, and it magnified how tiny my little princess is.

Allan's dad, Cliff, spoke briefly, and then said a prayer, dedicating her grave. Afterwards, a woman from the funeral home walked over and asked if I wanted to stay and watch her being buried. I said yes. I don't know why, but I'm really trying to make myself do whatever it is that people are offering for me to do, regarding this process. I don't want to miss anything, even if it's a little weird, or changes our plans for something else. I assumed that they would bury her after everyone left, but NOPE. Two men walked over, while we were all standing and sitting there, including the 60+ family members that had come to support us, and starting moving the plywood out of the way, that was covering the whole. I guess I thought that they would do this after everyone left, leaving our family of 5 to watch this, or just me, but they waited for nothing. They moved the flowers off of her tiny casket, and gently lifted her small casket and carefully put her in the grave. I remember thinking how big these men were, and how gruff they looked, but as I observed them with her, they were so careful and sweet with her little body, making sure that everything was perfect before they buried her.

Earlier, my mom informed me that in the sprays of flowers next to the table, there were flowers with ribbons on them, for our family to put roses in the grave with her. Unfortunately, however, as I sat there watching these sweet men putting my daughter in her final resting place, until we meet her again, I had forgotten to do that. I really felt bad that my mom had gone to that trouble to do do that for us, and I didn't remember to do it.

I watched the 2 men pull their tractor over and start shoveling the dirt on top of her casket, deep inside of the hole. It was hard to watch, but I felt like if she had to go through this, as if she felt or knew anything, I had to be there with her. I felt as if I was holding her hand while she had to go through something difficult. I felt like I was with her, supporting her, and being strong for her. However, all of these feelings, were in and out, because I was so aware of all of the people watching this, and felt how awkward that they may have felt watching this also. My mind started to wander, wondering if they thought I had lost my mind, that I wanted to watch her being buried. I felt like everyone was whispering about me, wondering if I was going to lose it..........I didn't. I started to cry when I saw her, and when Cliff started speaking, and even when they put her in the grave, but I just couldn't go there all the way. It's almost as if I wouldn't allow myself to cry at the service. I guess I felt like I needed to be strong for her, for my other 3 children, and for my husband.

One thing I will never forget is watching my Sarah stand on the other side of the table, watching her little sisters casket being put in the hole and buried. She was so fascinated by the whole process. I'm not sure if she was being protective of her, or if she was just wanting to see what they were going to do next. Whatever it was, sisterly love, or curiosity, I will never forget her standing there for 10 minutes, not moving or talking, just watching them.

Allan had to suggest that we get up and leave, as everyone was waiting for us to go. I could've sat there forever and watched her, but I think he was getting cold, and so were the kids. As I got up to leave, everyone was already leaving, or walking over to visit TC's grave. I saw the 2 men still there, carefully finishing their work on my daughters grave. I had a second to myself, where the number of people in the crowd had dwindled down some, and I watched them put her temporary marker down, instead of a headstone. That's when I cried. They got a long, thick wood stick and carefully pushed down each corner and then put the stone vase in above her marker. They picked up the flowers from the table, and put them on top of her grave and all stood back, observing the work they just finished. I just silently cried. It was done.

We all walked to the car, and got in, so the kids could unthaw and get quiet. I got in the car and watched my daughters grave as we drove away. I felt as if I was leaving her for good. That it was all over with and I would never see her again. 

The feelings that I had that day are a blur. I'm not sure I felt anything but hatred that this day was finally here. I never wanted it to come, and would've been perfectly happy if it never did. Nothing turned out how I thought it would, but I'm glad that I did everything and watched everything that I did. Not much you can regret later if you do everything that you are allowed to do in the moment. I just wish we never had to do any of it. I shouldn't be 30 years old and burying a child. I should never have to, but unfortunately, I did..........we did. The only thing that got us through this moment, was all of the love and support of our family and friends. I'm not sure we can ever repay them for all of this service they have given to us.