Loss (A mini series) Part 2

I'm not sure how so much time has passed since I last posted. SO this is very over due. My first post on loss lacks hindsight. I still don't have it at this point. I don't know the why or the lesson I'm meant to learn yet, but I know eventually I will. But now it's time to rewind the clock and talk about some other losses. Losses that have changed me and have had enough time that I can see the purpose in the pain. It doesn't lessen the loss, but it brings peace, healing, and truth from the loss.

And in advance, I want to thank my dear sweet Aunt RaNae for sharing her pictures and allowing me to tell part of her very personal story as I share mine.

It was December 1988. I was 6 soon to be 7. Not much younger than my second child is now. My Aunt RaNae gave birth to a baby girl, Mary Celestia. A baby girl that would not live. Mary's life was but a few fleeting moments.

My Aunt and Uncle with Mary

From the Hospital

They knew she wouldn't live. From the ultrasound, there was not a shadow of doubt that her body was not built to remain here on earth. When the tragic news was passed on. My grandparents went to work. Grandpa built Mary's little box. And Grandma, a master crocheter, made a blanket for Mary.

Grandpa and Mary's little box

Grandma crocheting Mary's blanket

Once she arrived from and then returned to our Father in Heaven. A funeral was held at our local church building. This is where my memory begins. I come from a big family. My dad is 4 of 13... I'm in the beginning of the grandchild line up. And cousins and family were a big thing growing up. Even in a tragic loss, it was about family. I remember going to the viewing. It was just before the funeral service. I remember climbing up on a little stool or maybe being picked up (but I'm pretty sure there was a stool for us little kids), so I could look into her little box. I remember her lying there in a little white dress and a little white bonnet. Mary was tiny, peaceful, perfect. I remember thinking she looked like a doll. I remember my mom holding my little sister up and telling us about how Mary's body didn't form the way it was supposed to and how she went back to be with Heavenly Father and Jesus.

The funeral services followed. I don't remember words said. But during the short service, the children came to the front of chapel to sing. We sang two songs... Families Can Be Together Forever and Did Jesus Really Live Again. (Click to hear the songs or read the lyrics.) I remember standing there and crying my eyes out. I had a few people beckon me over to them to let me know it was OK if I didn't finish the songs. But in my heart I knew I had to finish. I wanted to finish those songs for her. I needed to finish them for me. I refused to sit down. I remember shaking my head no. The last two lines of Did Jesus Really Live Again are, "Did Jesus really live again After he had died? Oh yes! And so shall I!" As we finished singing the last few words... Oh yes! And so shall!... My heart knew. My soul knew. I was singing the truth. For me, it was a very powerful. I don't think I grasped the magnitude on which I was affected at the time, but I knew. I knew that Mary was back in Heaven with God and that like Jesus Christ I would be resurrected, Mary would be resurrected, we would all be resurrected, and I could and would be with all of my loved ones again. Since then every time I sing that line... that same witness comes. It is real. It is true.

I don't really remember grave side, but I was there. I'm the little girl in the light purple coat and the white stocking hat. I do, however, remember the gravestone eventually placed. It has a little lamb on it. Growing up it was always one of the sites we visited on Memorial Day.

Graveside

 

Mary's resting place

Her death continued to affect me through out my life. In 5th grade, I'm not even sure how, but her death was on my mind. It was feeling hard. I was sad. One of the 5th grade teachers, Mr. Webster, noticed. The teachers had a walk in closet in their rooms, and he also had a sister named Sally that played guitar, wrote music, and sang. He sent me into the closet with one of Sally's songs and some paper to draw and be by myself for a little while. I don't remember much about the song or the picture... I wish I still had the picture. I have no idea what happened to it. The part I do remember was crying and drawing Mary as an angel in Heaven watching over me. I am so grateful for this teacher who was so aware of my needs. I think that is when I truly started processing and letting go ALL of my emotions surrounding her death.

As I continued into teenage life, my Aunt RaNae was an important part of it. She was a leader over the young women at church and was kind of a second mom at times. As I heard her share her stories surrounding Mary and her death... the good and the hard, it helped to fortify and to solidify my own faith. This horrible tragic loss of a innocent baby became one of the pillars of my faith.

It's still hard. Mary would be 28 now. She's still missed. She will always be missed until the reunion. But I'm grateful for Aunt RaNae and Uncle Jim who were willing to bring her into this world anyway. I'm grateful for Mary choosing to come to earth for just a short time to such an imperfect body that couldn't stay. What a huge hard sacrifice for all. But in their willingness to sacrifice so much, my heart was changed and forever altered for the better.  I wouldn't be all of who I am without the experience that Mary brought to our family. So thank you Jim and RaNae. And thank you Mary. You truly have been my little angel watching over me all these years. One of these days, I'll tell you in person. Until then... know that you are loved.