you please relax?” he said, the impatience in his voice nipping at her soul. “Terri thought it would upset you to have them here.”
“So, where are they?” It was so hard to maintain civility and control.
He lowered his head a little and muttered, “I don’t know. I just told her to take them away. I thought it would be too hard on you to see them.”
Try as she might to hear the words he was saying, all that came across was that he meant well. Terri meant well. The chaplain meant well. Was the future going to be dominated by those who meant well but who were tearing out her heart in the process?
She wanted to shout at him. ‘Last night I held our dead baby in my arms. What could be harder than that?” She wanted to, but she didn’t. He was hurting too. It wouldn’t be fair to lash out and cause more pain. Instead she pictured herself as a huge, almost empty duffle bag into which she’d stuff the hurt, pain, and sadness. Putting her feelings there would be so much easier on everyone, at least for now.
They decided that a small graveside service would be best, since he had “never really lived” and “no one had ever known him”. Annie didn’t really have a say in the decision and years later could never remember how it had all transpired. Their priest had said that it was what was typically done in “situations like this” and they just obediently followed his directions. Money was also an issue. Funerals were expensive.
The morning after Dillon was born, while Annie had still been in the hospital, Eric and his mother had gone to the funeral home to make the arrangements. She wasn’t even told about it until after everything was in order, another attempt to protect her from something that would be too hard on her. She felt cheated out of making those important final decisions about her baby, but dismissed it as being a good thing for Eric to be able to do for Dillon. He hadn’t known him in the intimate way she did during the pregnancy, so maybe this would be a way he could feel some closeness.
The funeral was on Monday, two days after he had been born. Annie couldn’t fit into any of her regular clothes yet and didn’t feel up to shopping, so she had to wear one of her maternity dresses. She chose a navy blue sleeveless one, since it was a close to black as she could get. It was a warm day, a balmy eighty degrees.
Even though it wasn’t supposed to be a “real” funeral, they had a little procession from their house to the cemetery. Eric had a large family, so there was more than just a handful of people. It was thoughtful of them to come, but Annie felt as though some of them were there out of curiosity more than concern. If nothing else, they just wanted to see how she and Eric would cope at their baby’s funeral. She might have done the same thing, so she tried not to judge them. She ached with longing for Sally and Frank. Their absence magnified the emptiness within her.
The line of cars wound its way around the graceful curves of the cemetery. Just when Annie thought they’d be stopping, there was yet another curve to go around and follow. Finally Eric pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car. He turned off the engine.
“Well,” he said, looking straight ahead through the windshield, “here we are.”
Annie looked out the window and saw the decorative sign that labeled this section of the cemetery: “Babyland.” It gave her chills at first, but then she felt an odd sort of comfort and camaraderie. All the babies who had been put to rest here had parents who were feeling just like she and Eric were at that very moment. It helped her feel less alone and gave her the strength she needed to get out of the car.
“It looks nice,” she said quietly. “It’s very pretty.” She gave Eric’s hand a little squeeze and they turned to walk over to the grave. When she looked in that direction, she gasped sharply. There, sitting on a little platform, was a small, white container that looked a lot like a cooler. She looked at Eric, questions in her eyes. He nodded and said, “That’s him.”
She wasn’t sure exactly how to react, there were so many emotions competing for her attention at once. Not only had she just arrived at her child’s funeral, but she had to deal with the fact that he was sealed inside of a casket that looked just like the Rubbermaid cooler they had at home. They had just used it for a picnic they had been invited to earlier that summer. That day seemed like a million years ago – so much had happened since then. A group of friends, about five couples, had decided to get together for a picnic at Minnehaha Falls. It had been a glorious summer day, the kind that is perfect for relaxing on a blanket and watching the clouds change form. She didn’t know if she’d ever want to use it again.
Okay, Annie, she told herself, you can handle this. This is how baby caskets look. Accept it and move on.
She glanced at Eric for guidance what to do next, but he was distracted, talking to some of their friends. Looking around, she made a conscious effort to notice who took the time out of their busy lives to be there. Standing in a small cluster near the road stood some of Eric’s coworkers. She was a little surprised to see them here, since they had decided that only family and a handful of close friends should attend the service, but what could she do? Ask them to leave? She had never even met two of the women in the group. One of them was rather plain and dowdy, wearing a shapeless cotton dress that was made out of a small floral print. Her hair was light brown and pulled back into a thin ponytail. She had a kind, but plain face, her eyebrows knit into a furrow of sadness and concern. Her eyes remained focused on the ground. It seemed to Annie that she was afraid to look up, to see the reality of what was happening around her. Annie found herself empathizing with the strange woman, because she felt much the same way.
The other woman was a different story. She was not plain and dowdy, but just the opposite. She was stunning. Tall and slender, she wore her sleeveless black sheath with graceful elegance. Her arms were tanned and toned as were her bare legs that seemed to go on forever. Blonde hair gently grazed her shoulders and glistened in the sun. She was not looking down, but rather was surveying the area with a boldness that seemed out of place. When their eyes met, the hairs on the back of Annie’s neck stood up and she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had seen the woman only a couple of weeks before, the day a limo had arrived at the house to take Eric to a work event at a water park in Wisconsin. It had caused a huge fight when he returned home, since he’d been out nearly all night. Shaken by this visceral reaction, Annie averted her gaze to Dillon’s little casket. Oddly enough, that seemed to calm her down, comfort her and allow her the time she needed to gather her composure. Why had the blonde woman chosen to come? Annie’s heart was beating wildly even thinking about it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was the priest. He quietly said, “ Should we get started?” Looking at him, she nodded.
She knew she had to go through this, just as she had gone through the labor and delivery. She remembered her Grandma’s favorite saying: “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” But I don’t want to be stronger, she thought. I just want Dillon back. Again she looked for Eric. She needed him near her now, next to her. She felt frail and fragile and ready to break into a thousand tiny pieces as she stood there. Alone.
The priest had made his way over to where the Rubbermaid casket sat on top of the green crushed velvet drape that covered a mound of dirt and busied himself looking over the passages from Scripture he had chosen to read that afternoon. Sunlight bounced off the white plastic finish of the casket as the branches of nearby trees were blown gently around by the balmy June breeze. It made Annie sad to think of Dillon being there all alone, and she walked over to be near him. She reached out her hand and patted the casket softly, as though it were his newborn baby cheek. It’s okay, sweetie, she thought, Mommy’s here.
Suddenly it seemed very quiet. A hush had descended upon the group gathered there. She glanced around and realized that everyone had taken her walk over to the casket as a signal that the service was about to start. They had formed a small semicircle behind her and all stood there looking at her. Some were crying, others were dry-eyed but composed. There were a few whose eyes were focused on the grass or the trees or the pair of geese that basked in the sunshine at the base of a large, marble monument nearby -- anywhere but at Annie and the tiny white box. They could