1 year ago on this day I did the unthinkable. I buried my whole heart. I remember the day before The Funeral going to the funeral home to identify her body, and do her hair to get her ready. My baby was really gone. It looked nothing like Kenzie. The scar on her head from the incisions they made to take out what they wanted to was uncomfortable. Her fingers were dark and black. Her body was kept too long waiting for autopsy. I feared exactly this, that my child would be unrecognizable and they still not find any reason why she isn’t here. And I was right about both. I remember feeling so empty and angry that morning of the viewing. I didn’t want to go back down there to the funeral home in the evening. I left after getting her ready and was certain I was not going back.
I was home locked away in my room… & an hour before the viewing, I got up: it was automatic. No alarm necessary and got ready to go. I got there, made sure she was fine and cut some of her curly locs for myself, her dad and her grand parents to keep. All this time I stood there upset and numb.
Koko came and looked at her and broke down. It was the first time she’d seen her since she passed. So many others came. Cried. Broke down. And there I was just angry that this was our reality. My reality.
I don’t remember exactly when or who. But after someone stepped away from her coffin, I walked up and looked down and saw her feet, and I broke down. I cried and cried. I apologized to her 1000 times and said I’m so sorry for my reaction. But she was mine. Before she was birthed and after death. It didn’t matter my feelings , it didn’t matter what she looked like, that was my child laying there in that coffin. I told her that I love her and mommy is here no matter what. To the very end. I hugged her and laid on her chest. 😔💔
The next morning for the funeral, I drove down to the funeral home. I made sure her change of clothes fit fine and she was beautiful. I then got in the car and the hearse driver told me to lead the way and I drove her to the church. As hard and uncomfortable and difficult as it was , she was and is mine and I had to do it.
The Funeral itself, if I had my way would’ve been a tribute to her life, and a peaceful burial on the farm or somewhere she loved… but traditions and all.
When I planned it I intentionally set the songs to kid friendly, cheerful music. This was already the saddest most heartbreaking thing we’ve been through… sad music would’ve made it worse. I asked her god mother to play My Girl by the temptations on the steel pan. This was our song. I sang it to her when I was pregnant because it was so fitting. She was also due in May, so it was literally perfect for us. She loved her god mom and steel pan too. I thought it would be perfect. And her eulogy was filled with words of love from those who knew and loved her. I tried. But planning that funeral was the most dreadful thing I was ever made to plan.
At the ceremony I held it together. Still numb and still in disbelief. I was undoubtedly in a state of shock. At the burial I didn’t want to be comforted. There was nothing anyone could say or do to make it better. I was angry. So angry. After they sent her down, when the crowds started to clear, for the first time since she died I felt her spirit SO Strongly! Without hesitation I laid next to her on the grave. No one understood. They were all trying to get me up. The rain came at one point and I was there. My baby was there with me. I literally felt like she was hugging me and sleeping next to me. I could’ve stayed there forever. And should have.
I haven’t felt that since that day.
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