The Dawn Before the Morning

I think about the words "morning" and "mourning"....and for me "morning" is a new day; while "mourning" is "the dawn before the morning". It's aways been odd to me when I hear the word morning; I hear my Mother's voice on those rough mornings during my junior year of high school when I hated school every day. I have always been a morning person but in rough times you can always tell when I am struggling by how I wake up. My mother would come in on rough mornings, and as I can only imagine now, she was most surely dreading the coming task at hand. Teenagers are difficult. Girls are worse. She called me her self raising child- except for during a brief time when I was 14 and another when I was being bullied when I was as a junior in high school. She didn't need to tell me to do my homework, go to bed, respect adults, be on time, etc., I just did. God forbid I would ever upset anyone or fall from the "perfect expectations" I made for myself in my head. Punishment really isn't necessary for me- I guarantee I am already punishing myself in some form for my "imperfections". A look of disappointment- worse than any punishment for me. I still always forget that when I wake in the morning it will be a new day, and today is a gift from God. I'm in need of a reminder that on the other side of that sunrise is forgiveness and a new day, healing, peace, ease in suffering, and another chance.
Back when I was a junior in high school she would open the door and say these words every morning if she could tell I wasn't going to be getting myself up and ready on my own. What I remember most is the conviction of tone from Mom. She never let my attitude change her belief that what she would say was going to be the way she had lived and felt in her life ever since she had overcome her own personal wars. Her words were as follows: "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!" then as the pillow was flying at her she would say right on cue with cheer and a bit of silliness mixed with pure antagonism-"Besides- the sun is singing and the birds are shining!" She has always been like that. When I put the boys to bed I never say "Don't let the bed bugs bite" I say:"Don't bite the bugs!" No pillows at my head- just giggles. Lucky me- unlucky Mom- but I don't think she has ever seen it that way. You see, Mom has always made it very clear that the morning was new- the sunrise was beautiful and the sunsets- oh the sunsets- we loved the sunsets (we still watch them together when we can). She taught me to see symbolism in everything. If the sun is setting in the sky (pause and enjoy the beauty and do not grieve the loss of the day- know that it will come up tomorrow).
I couldn't quite write about the funeral after writing about the morning of the day that we attended Rev. Workman's funeral. This is why I left the last entry with a simple: to be continued... In order to write on I have to write this entry. Even though I feel a need to throw a pillow at Mom for some odd reason. I hear her words in my head and feel like getting out of bed "in the morning of our mourning". I have to write through it and not around it in order to heal. I believe I told Grant the afternoon we attended the funeral that we have to go through tough stuff in life -no matter how much we want to pretend it didn't happen. I told him that even when he moves to Africa (he says he plans on living in Africa because his animal encyclopedia shows that he can find all of the creatures he wants to see in Africa.....) he can't just ignore the sad stuff- he has to go through it- we can't just "walk around it". I asked him if I could help him with any questions he had after church when we came home and he was sitting on the couch just staring with such a sad look in his big beautiful eyes.
He said he wanted to go to the funeral. I called my sister in law and I think I also talked to my best friend about it that day as well but I can't remember. I know I talked to Dan. I asked Dan if he would go with me. I wanted him there with me for purely selfish reasons. I needed my family. I do believe I asked my sister-in-law, Kara, about my concerns with Grant going to the funeral. I wouldn't have felt so hesitant if he hadn't been showing so much terrible grief. I wasn't sure what to do. He is incredibly sensitive to emotion, but not just his own, more so to the emotions of those around him. I know he "wanted to see what Steve looked like now", so that made me think he needed closure, but felt that since the casket would be closed he wouldn't get the kind of closure he really wanted. He is old enough and in times of great need he knows when it is time to take things seriously- so I explained once again, there would be many people crying, the church would be completely filled, (more than we had ever seen it), and Mommy may also cry a whole lot. He may feel like there are too many people around him or he may feel happy that so many people cared about Steve. It may bother him that Steve will be in a casket and he will not know what it looks like to be "not alive". We talked about how Steve wasn't inside the casket and that it was just his body. We have had many conversations before about the body being just like a car- it takes us where we need to go, we have to take care of it and keep it filled up with gas (food and water), but what is really important is the stuff inside. The stuff inside our bodies are the most important, (just like the stuff that is important inside our vehicles), it is our love, our thoughts, our feelings, and the part that believes in God,.....the part that makes us cry when we are sad and the part that makes us laugh when something is funny,......the part that makes our hearts hurt when people we love or care about die;- it is called our "soul" and that is the "important stuff" our bodies carry around. When we die that is the part that goes to to heaven...(I didn't go into the complexities of who goes to heaven- I don't know if I will ever do that b/c I struggle with that anyway and I hope he someday will simply come to his own conclusion that brings him his own peace.)
I'm not sure if the universe simply wanted us to not take the boys to the funeral or if it was a random mistake on our part that we thought we had asked Ted's parents to watch Jake and maybe Grant so that we could go to the funeral. We called his parents house up to the very last minute and we were unable to reach them so we simply settled on the unpleasant idea that we might have a wild 3 year old to restrain and a bawling 6 year old. There was one....ONE place left in the church balcony so we took it. Grant climbed onto my lap which is something he hasn't done in public for quite some time. Ted finally became so frustrated with Jake's interrupting yet normal 3 year old behavior he took him outside. Honestly I am sure Jake knew what was going on in a small way. He knew it was about the minister and he knew it was sad- so he acted out. It makes perfect sense to me because Jake often draws the attention away from things that are important with certain antics. I believe it is a coping skill he has developed. During the funeral Grant's eyes continually rained tears down his sweet little face. Since I had never seen my little boy's heart hurt like this I began to cry as well. I just kept rocking him and catching his tears with my arm just as they fell off of his face. He clung to me and we held on to each other tightly as if we secretly were reminding each other that we never want to have to live without the other. I squeezed his leg three times and paused and waited for what I knew would follow, he reached over to my hand and squeezed it three times as well...this is how we say, "I love you" without words. When the funeral was over Grant wanted to know if he could touch the casket. I told him that we could go down to look at the flowers, his picture and robe and if he wanted to touch the casket I would stand right with him and hold his hand. So we worked our way back downstairs and admired the flowers. He pointed at a flower arrangement shaped like a heart and had a ribbon across it and he said to me, "Mommy- that's says Daddy on it!" I told him that those were the flowers that Natalie had picked out for her Daddy. You could see in Grant's eyes that at that very moment was the point it all clicked. If I was in his brain this is what I would have heard: "Natalie's Daddy had died. My Daddy didn't die. I can't imagine loosing my Daddy. I feel so bad for Natalie. Where's Daddy!" At that moment Grant had begun to feverishly look about himself to find his Dad. His Dad appeared to him and he calmed down. He kept walking along the side of the casket staring with wide eyes- yet did not touch it. He walked over to Steve's picture and when he looked at that picture he started to cry pretty hard. I got on my knees and hugged him. I asked him if there was anything I could do for him or if he had any questions. He asked if he could touch the casket and I said yes, he walked up to it, but he did not actually touch the casket. I told him that when he was ready we were going join everyone downstairs at the meal. He was ready so we joined them downstairs and I have never seem him so quiet and reserved for such a long period of time before in my entire life. When everyone else was talking, some laughing and sharing their own conversations it seemed as if his mind was still on Steve or Natalie or simply the enormity of death itself. Grant remained this way for a couple of days but every day he showed improvement. One night he asked me if I was going to die when he was little. I told him-"Oh honey- I do everything in my power to protect myself, Daddy, you and Jake from harm....Not if I have anything to say about it!!!" He didn't like my answer. I didn't like my answer. It is just that I used to make Grandpa promise me he would never die and he always told me "Honey I won't live forever and someday I will die and you will have to prepare yourself for that so don't make me make a promise that simply would be a lie." I hated hearing that truth, but I can't get myself to ever say those words to my kids- no matter how old they get. There is no easy way around it because in all honesty- no child should ever see their parent(s) die; and no parent should experience the pain of outliving their child. If it wasn't for the hope and faith I have in heaven I couldn't deal with death at all. But, I do honestly believe we will be seeing them again when it is our time. Until then I think they pop into and out of our dreams, and act as our guardian angels when we are at the lowest of all the valley's in life.