Mason's Story-The Aftermath Part 2

The funeral plans were made. We were asked if we wanted a viewing or an open casket and we said no. I did not think I was strong enough to see my son like that. The next day was the day before Thanksgiving. I was to drop off music for the service. I went by myself because I was just feeling smothered by family and Jake. All I wanted to do was curl in a ball and be alone with my grief. The original plan was that my mother would go to the funeral home later that day to view Mason and make sure he was tucked in with the blankets we had bought for him and basically put my mind at ease that he was warm and secure in his casket. When I went to drop off the music for the funeral, the director told me that Mason was in the viewing room and I could see him if I changed my mind. I am not sure what compelled me to do so, but all of the sudden the need to see him again became stronger than almost any feeling I had ever had before.

The director had me wait outside while she readied him. She led me into the room and left quietly shutting the door behind her. I slowly made my way to the tiny, pearl white casket and look inside. There was Mason looking so peaceful and beautiful, like a perfect little sleeping doll. I hesitantly lifted my hand and stroked his cheek with my index finger. His cheek felt so cold against my finger and I broke down as a wave of grief came over me. I knelt down on the floor, rested my forehead on his casket and just wept for my son. The pain in my chest was indescribeable. I cried until no more tears would come. My body felt dry, completely devoid of moisture.

I gathered my strength, both physical and emotional and stood up. I leaned over and lightly brushed a kiss on the top of Mason's head. I soaked in his face, his lips, his little bit of red hair. I lifted the blanket and held his tiny little hand. His perfect hand. I held his hand and marveled at his perfectly formed finger nails. I felt such a need to memorize every detail. I knew I would not be able to come back and do this another day. The funeral director came back in and asked me if I wanted to hold him. I very much wanted to, but I had been gone a long time and I knew my family would be worried about me. I told her I would go home-about 3 miles away and come back after I let my family know where to find me.

I went home and my mother and Jake seemed concerned about the state they found me in. I am sure I was a sight with my eyes all swollen and my face tear streaked. I told them I had seen Mason and they were concerned. They thought I wasn't going to see him. I tried to explain why I had to, but they were just so concerned about my mental state at that time. I tried to get Jake to come to the funeral home with me, but he refused. He did not want to see his son like that. I remember feeling resentment at him for missing such an important thing. I realize now he was coping the best he could. He and my mother kept telling me they did not think it was such a good idea to hold him. They were worried that he would not feel like I remember and Jake says he was worried that it would further unravel my already fragile mental state. I tried to argue but Jake begged me not to, for him he said. I finally consented. I know they were trying to look out for me, but I regret not holding him to this day.

I returned to the funeral home about eleven in the morning. I would stay there all day with my son until they closed at eight in the evening. There is still much to tell about that day in another post. Right now I need some time.