Weighing Sorrow

Today we went to the funeral home to pre-arrange the funeral of my husband.  To many it maybe too morbid but in practicality it is the easiest act to have done when death comes. Death is our greatest fear and yet, the path we strive to find throughout our lives so that we can be reconnected to the universe from which we came. Death is merely a transition from the illusion of this physical body that we are experiencing to the reality of our spirit form.  We have in this illusion of life created a ritual of trying to keep our physical form preserved as if we could or would want to use this frail and weak body form for all eternity. The ritual of the funeral and all of the trappings of this physical world is nothing more than the ego trying to control the spirit for all of eternity. Even so, until we awaken to the knowledge that there is no physical form only One in spirit form, we will continue to materialize death in life as we have all other aspects the physical form. As long as we continue to practice these rituals and hold on to the physical form, we will always experience sorrow with death for we will always be at a loss. When we awaken to the knowledge that we are not separate but connected to the All, there can be no more loss. Until that point in time, however, we celebrate death with the funeral and try to provide in death the flowers we should have sent in life. 

I remember the first funeral I had to help arrange.  My aunt and cousin and I went to the funeral home together to arrange my uncle's funeral after he had died.  I was taken aback when we shown into a room filled with caskets and taken around like we were being sold a new car.We were told about the strength gauge of each casket, the satin or crepe lining, and how my uncle would look lying in the casket. We were shown a selection of shrouds which are no more than fancy hospital gowns made to look like dresses or suits and again one would have thought we were at a fashion house runway show. I was appalled at what seemed to me a very shallow and used car attitude of the funeral director. He almost made you want to kick the tires and take it for a spin or in this case jump right in and get a feel for the comfortable padding and the softness of the casket lining and for a few dollars more color coordinate the clothes, the lining and the flowers.

Here we were devastated by my uncle's death, and we had to listen to a sales pitch about the best casket to use to bury him. It was easy to see how one could be sold a bill of goods that you don't need at a time like this. You can be manipulated by guilt to place your loved one in the finest of caskets and top of the line shrouds and beyond that you have to pick the level of service to provide for your loved one. Of course, you are going to pick the best lest you be seen as a cheap and uncaring. You would be able to brag for years about how you sent Uncle Bob to the great beyond by burying him in the finest casket made and a brand new suit and tie and shoes.  Really, where is he going to walk to and who is he going to meet six feet under?

It was with this experience that I knew we had to make pre-arrangements for my father when he was dying with cancer. The outcome of the disease was inevitable. There would be no cure or healing. Death was the only way out. Although we had to go through the casket room and choose, we had time to weigh our choices without the pressure of guilt. Also, we were given a booklet to write down all the details of the funeral service and obituary. When that morning came and Dad said good-bye to us all, we had only to make a phone call and all was taken care of already.

Knowing that I will be at a loss when my husband dies, I want to de-stress the situation as much as I can. As we were walking out of the funeral home, I thought of how painful it will be the next time I am there. I thought of all those who have gone before, my cousin at age 23, my aunt at age 54, my father at age 62 and my uncle at age 75. All were painful and the hole left in our hearts were long in mending.

As I thought of my loved ones, I remembered a pain that struck my very soul to a depth so painful it has never mended when thought of at the level of the earth plane and human form. It was the death of my first child. He died before he was born. I knew that I would be delivering a dead child when I was induced into labor. It would be a labor of hell. The induction medication results in nausea, vomiting and diarrhea along with the pain of contractions. It was a new method of inducing stillborns and the medical team had not perfected the premedications to keep the side effects at bay.  2

I had had a special seaweed medicine placed in my cervix the day before I was to come to the labor and delivery unit.  It was to help dilate my cervix to hasten the labor process.  We arrived at the hospital at 8:00am and I had an IV started and the suppository was inserted and the labor began. It was indeed a labor of hell.  The pain of the contractions, the diarrhea, the nausea and vomiting came all at the same time.  The pain medicine and nausea medicine made everything a blurr.  The diarrhea was explosive and I was afraid of deliverying my baby in a bedpan full of shit.  After 5 hours, I suddenly felt an urge to push and was instructed to pant like a dog until the doctor could get there to deliver the baby.  Panting, restraining the overwhelming urge to push, vomiting, diarrhea for the next fifteen minutes was almost unbearable.  As soon as the doctor arrived, I gave a great big, uncontrollable push and my son came out breech like a shot, intact amniotic bag, and part of the placenta all at the same time.

I was given him in a cold, sterile, stainless steel bowl to hold instead of a blanket. He wieghed one pound and five ounces. He was so small and tiny. He had been dead for a few days and his skin was discolored and peeling. His skull was purple blue and mushy soft.  He had ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.  He was my son and he was beautiful.4

I did not deliver the placenta intact and had to have a D&C to remove the bits left in my uterus.  I had to wait all afternoon and evening to see if I would pass the placenta and when I did not, I was rolled into the delivery room.  The grief and sorrow were so great that I had disassociated from the physical surroundings and the whole experience.  I had an out of body experience and looked down on myself as the anesthesia mask was placed over my face as I lay on the operating room table.  My legs were lifted into the stirrups, my perineum and vagina were washed with betadine, and my bladder was emptied with a catheter.  The doctor took a sterile 4x4 and placed it in the clamp and inserted it into my uterus and swept it out to remove all the placental tissue.  I woke up in the recovery room and wished I had died too.  The pain and emptiness of my heart and lifelessness felt in my uterus was too much to bear.  I ask for more pain medicine and let the blackness take hold. 6

I was taken to the other end of the women's floor.  I was taken away from the sound of crying newborns and listening to the soft cooing sounds made by new mothers to their babies as they held their babies to the breast.  I was drained of all emotion and physical energy.  I could do no more than to stare listlessly at the wall.  And then, I cried.  I cried and cried until my body collapsed into a black hole of sleep.  When I woke up, I cried more and the nurse told me I needed to be quiet because I was disturbing other paitients.  Anger set in and all the anger in the world was directed on her.  She was lucky to get away with her body intact.  At that moment in time, I would have killed her and would have had no remorse.  

I had to sign the paper work to either let the hospital dispose of his body or send him to the funeral home for a funeral. We, of course, chose a funeral. Even now 28 years later, it is a blur in my mind of going to the funeral home and arranging a casket and signing all the papers and then the cemetery and a grave site and a head stone. It was too much to bear. The funeral home did not charge for infant funerals and the cemetery had a special garden for our baby angels that would never be held in a blanket. 8

We arrived at the cemetary mid-morning the next day. The day was cold and it was snowing. I had worn a red dress and I shivered continuously.  My Mother and Aunt met us at the cemetary.  There was a tent set up with chairs for us to sit.  The casket was so tiny.  It was a golden white and we had a single yellow rose lying atop the casket.  It was a short service and even now I have no memory of what was said. 

I cried tears for a flood for years until there were no more tears to come. The death of your child is a cross no mother should have to bear. There are no measures to weigh against; not even your father, your mother or friend. There is no consolation or comfort that be derived in the death of a child and it takes years to learn the life lessons of the purpose of a life lost so young. It was with these thoughts that I ask my husband to help me plan his funeral. It is a burden that no one should have to shoulder alone.

The pain of losing a loved one on the earth plane and human form could not be borne without the knowlege of the spirit soul and our connection with all others. We are but twinkling lights extending from the heavens each connected and dependant on the other like a string of Christmas tree lights. It is this understanding that allows us to let go of those we love when they have crossed over to another deminsion. It is with this understanding that we know the human form is too fragile to make the journey to heaven and only the beautiful spirit inside of each of us goes on.

We all each in our own way come to terms with the pain of death. It is with love that we wish the sleep of death for those who are dying with the worst of pain and breakdown of the human form. It is a journey of acceptance that death is preferrable to life at this time. It is with this journey that I make the funeral plans for my husband but when weighing sorrow, there is no measure for the loss of your child. The weight of sorrow has no measure only relief knowing that a loved one is no longer in pain and distress and acceptance that they will always be with you in spirit form. It is with this understanding that I have my son with me each day and in my heart I hold him in a blanket and I will dance with my husband for all eternity.10

Death is but an illusion; a single thought lost in the vastness of an unending eternity and the only act of the single mind that reconnects us to a neverending universe of One.   12