April 10, 2013 Gracie's Viewing

We arrived at Meyer's mortuary at least an hour before the guests.  I had been consumed with a sadness of knowing we would never have a family picture.  I didn't even have a snapshot of all 4 kids together.  From now on it would only be pictures of us holding a picture of Gracie and that idea was too much for me to bear.  I didn't want to add more regret.  Would I regret not taking the picture before the casket closed?....the last opportunity for our Family Portrait not involving a portrait of Gracie. I didn't know the answer to that question but didn't want to find my answer years down the road and years too late.  I asked Nichole (friend and photographer) to meet us there and wouldn't permit anyone in until we were done. This is our final family photo....this is our reality. 

Guest began to arrive and Lisa Burton took Vi. We had Gracie's stuff set on tables, a book Jenni made for people to write messages in, and her bike and scooter next to the casket.  Jeremy and I stood in front of the casket and Liv and Izsak were back and forth from us to arriving family and friends.  I didn't want to be there....all these "friends" and family I hadn't seen for so long.  Some I was genuinely glad to see which made me forget it was for such a horrific event, others I wish had stayed away as they brought about feelings of judgment, regret, blame.....much like the feelings they brought out on my wedding day.  That's what this was.....it was my wedding day all over again.  I felt it was my job to convince these people it would all be alright, that we were good people (parents this time), that Jeremy is amazing and I love him so much.  I told everyone who walked through the line that Jeremy painted Gracie's nails.  I wanted them all to know how much we love our daughter....more than any parent loves their child. I thought again of Aunt Tami and how comfortable she made everyone else feel at her daughter's funeral, I thought of Jackie Kennedy....strength and poise. I felt as though I was playing a role in the most shitty movie that would (at some point) end.  I wanted them all to leave and this night to be over and then I saw Dr. Barhorst.  Dr. Barhorst is our pediatrician since Olivia was born.  She was always so complimentary of what a "good mamma" I was.  She had just seen Gracie at Vi's well child visit.  Gracie loved the doctor....mostly due to her favorite show "Doc. McStuffins." Seeing Dr. Barhorst is when I felt complete and utter shame.  I had to stop the receiving line and explain to her what had happened.  I had to convince her that I am still a "good mamma" and Jeremy is the best dad... there was nothing more we could've done other than not let her go outside. Right?  She had always warned me of chocking hazards, attentive in the tub, safe sleeping, stairs, etc.  I did all those things and so many more.  We were such careful parents all the time, Jeremy the most....she knew this....I wanted to know she still knew this but more than anything.....I wanted her to fix this. It would take close to 2 years before my heart and mind would accept that nobody could fix this.

The night went on and my breasts (now full with milk) were starting to hurt.  The more I hugged, the more they hurt.  Lisa had taken Vi home but it's not like I could've fed her anyway.  I went from sad to angry to hurting to angry to annoyed to sad in a cycle all through the night.  Not only was I dealing with the loss of my daughter I was also post-pardon 4 weeks.....I didn't know what to feel or what I should be feeling or how to behave but apparently others thought they did.  My brother-in-law made a comment about how "stoic" I was.  What the hell is that supposed to mean?  How do you want me to act?  If I were acting the way I wanted I would be lying next to Gracie in her casket and all you people wouldn't be here.  Unfortunately there are things called comfort and shock which prevented us from truly feeling what others think we should feel.  I say "Unfortunately" because people perceived we were, "Doing good, almost too good" according to my aunt.  In the following weeks that shock or comfort fades and the true feelings set in when all the judgmental assholes have long returned to their happy bliss. 

The night went on and as it was coming to a close my neighbor came up with a picture.  He waited for all the family to be gathered around and the crowd to be gone.  I felt his introduction was a bit of a production and found myself getting annoyed.  There were so many emotions running through me, most of them negative, and I just wanted to get home where I thought I would need to be for this nightmare to end.  He turned the picture around and showed me a picture (drawn by an artist) of Christ holding Gracie. It was amazingly perfect and I immediately cried.  It was what I felt and wanted others to feel as well.  Gracie is with Christ and we will see her again.  This is not a tragic death, it's part of her plan....a plan that was not ours to change. 

We picked up Vi from Lisa's and headed for home.  I arrived to a "spick and span" house.  Carol had offered to come clean while we were at the viewing and totally unlike me....I let her.  I sat on the couch feeding Vi and going over my talk for the funeral as Joanna Williams put curlers in Olivia's hair.  After everyone went to bed I sat up crying for hours.  How could I possibly say good-bye to my Gracie in the morning?