A year has passed and I still have all his things in his room. His hat and scarf still hang in the entryway. My mind tells me he is gone but my heart says "when you get home all your things will still be here waiting for you". I am not ready to let him go. I close my eyes and I can still feel his hug and his kiss on my cheek. I can feel his warmth. As long as I have that memory, he will always be alive in my heart.
January 19, 2010
The next morning the family begins arriving. More tears. I don't cry. I comfort them. Around noon Brandon, his little brother Tre', Rhiannon, and Asia get to the house. Now all my attention must be on Brandon. They stay all day and leave in the evening. Brandon stays with us. While they are here Patrick and I have to go to the funeral home and go through that terrible ordeal. I say that I would like to hold my son's hand and say good bye but the coroner has suggested that I don't. The director goes and takes a look. He say that for $160.00 they can make him presentable enough for a viewing but I must bring a hat for him to wear. My mind begins to imagine horrible things. It goes where I haven't allowed it to. He tells me that he will "bend the rules" so I can say my final good bye. He also says only ten people can attend the viewing and that we must be there at 10 a.m. sharp.
That evening Tiffany T. calls and asks me to describe in detail what his head looked like, at what angle did the bullet enter his head. She tells me that she talked him into it. That he wanted to go and she just helped him along. My daughter Tiffany takes the phone away from me and does into the computer room and shuts the door. She comes out some time later shaking. The other Tiffany told her exactly what she said to him in his last moments that caused him to ask Patrick to pull over so he could get out of the car and say "and how does this sound bitch?' before shooting himself.
Now I must deal with two powerful and unbearable emotions - absolute devastation and rage. Christian had ask in his last letter that we be kind and loving to her. How do I do that without going crazy? I begin to scream over and over and over. I wail. I sob. I am inconsolable. My daughters hold me and rock me. I cry until no more tears are there to cry and no more sobs rack my body and my soul. They put me to bed. I lay there unable to move or to sleep. I stare at the ceiling for hours. Finally I sleep. The next day is the viewing.
THE VIEWING
January 20th
Sixteen people show up. It's okay. We go over the final details with the funeral director. Family and Christian's friends select small individual urns so they can have part of his ashes. I will have the large urn. I write the check before the viewing begins. Before I turn over his favorite beanie, and the one he wore most of the time, we pass it around so everyone can hold this precious item that meant of much to him and something that we each can visualize him wearing when he was so full of life and laughter. I pray aloud and offer my son's spirit up to our Heavenly Father and ask that he find peace in His loving Arms.
The viewing begins. The men go first. Then his sisters are ask to go in. They insist that I accompany them. The funeral director has said that only I could touch him. I go in and take my son's hand for the last time. I talk softly to him. Everyone has now entered the room and are sobbing uncontrollably behind me. I continue to talk telling him how blessed I was to be his mother and for the all the joy he brought into our lives, and many other things. Finally I give him a last kiss on the forehead and reluctantly release his hand. I whisper "Good night sweet Prince."
I step back. We all embrace in a huge group hug and they cry. I don't. Then each one went up and had their individual goodbyes. Each person holds his hand and kisses him on the forehead. The director says nothing. Patrick and Bob don't go in. They say they want to remember him as he was and not as he is. That's okay. I tell the funeral director that he can't cremate him until after the third day per Native American tradition and Biblical reference. He agrees.
AFTER THE VIEWING
We go home. The ladies from the LDS church have brought food in. Everyone eats. I don't, I can't. The phone keeps ringing. No time to be alone.
That evening Christian's good friend Justin calls. We talk for hours. He is angry, he is hurt. He cries and cries. Brandon talks to him, Tiffany talks to him, I talk to him again. Finally we hang up. I am deflated, void of feeling. I go into the computer room to just be alone and decompress. Brandon sleeps in the family room with Tiffany and Matt. Patrick is alone in our room watching TV. This is his way of coping. We go to bed and fall a sleep.
January 21st
Robyn stays on the phone until a venue is found for the Memorial service - The Des Moines Activity Center which is located right across the street from Grandma and Grandpa Jorgensen's old property. The children had spent so many happy hours at their grandparent's house when they were growing up. She books it for Saturday, January 30th. Lee's mother, Chris, is providing her with a free ticket with Alaska Airlines so she can return from Arizona to be here for the Memorial Service.
Kenny agrees to deliver the eulogy and be the family spokesperson. Both Asia, Christian's good friend, and Kenny set up memorial sites on facebook. Asia volunteered to put the slide presentation together; and I think maybe she or Kenny arranged for the DJ, sound, and lighting. I don't know for sure. My sister Debbie, her daughters Amber and Kim, and my brother Donald paid for the beautiful flowers. Tiffany selects and orders the flowers. Tiffany also offers to take care of the food. Julie Weckhorst and Marilyn Rigley offer help with the good preparation. When the owners of Christian's favorite restaurant, Akaska, learn of his death, they call and generously offer to donate trays of food for the Memorial Service.
January 22nd
My niece, Kim, flies in from Virginia to be with us for the weekend before returning to her teaching job on Monday. She and Christian had been so close when they were growing up. It was so comforting to have her with us. I hated to see her go.
Niece Kim and daughter Tiffany |
January 24th to January 30th
EVERYONE GOES HOME. I spend the next week putting together the Memorial service and program - thankful for something to do. It took me some time to research and decide exactly what I wanted to give my son as his last gift from me. It had to be the right poems, the right songs, the right readings. I contacted different people to be readers and to offer the opening and closing prayers. Thank goodness for the Jepson family and their willingness to help me. Trevor (Kenny's nephew) offered to do a video of the memorial service. What a tremendous gift that was.
After I had put it all together, Patrick and I took the program to the printer to have 100 copies made. I thought that would be plenty - but I was wrong. I should have ordered 200 copies. I then set about purchasing things I would need to decorate the tables. Some things I already had I would use too. I didn't want to forget anything. Everything had to be perfect.
THE MEMORIAL SERVICE
January 30th arrives. The Memorial Service was perfect in every way. Everything came together beautifully. There were about 190 or more people in attendance and many more that wanted to come but couldn't because they lived out of state. Christian was loved and admired by so many people. I got to reconnect with a lot of his old friends and got to meet a lot of his new friends. Many nice things were said about my son and how he had touched so many lives. I had thought this Memorial would help his family and friends but what they gave me on that day, at that service, was better and more valuable than anything I could ever have given them. Their words and their hugs and their love wrapped around me like a warm blanket and I was comforted. And at last I could cry.
--------------------------------------------------------
God's Lent Child
"I'll lend you for a little while
a child of mine" God said
For you to love the while he lives
and mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years
or forty two or three
But will you, till I call him back,
take care of him for me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you
and, should his stay be brief,
you'll have his nicest memories
as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
since all from earth return
but, there are lessons below,
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the whole world over;
and in my search for teachers true,
and from the things that crowd life's lane
I have chosen you.
Now will you give him all your love,
nor think the labor vain,
nor hate me when I come to take
this lent child back again?
I fancied that I heard them say,
"Dear Lord Thy Will be Done"
for all the joys thy child will bring
the risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness,
we'll love him while we may,
and for the happiness we've known
forever grateful stay.
But, should your angels call for him
much sooner than we planned,
we'll brave the grief that comes
and try to understand.
Author Unknown
At Christian's Memorial Service his dear friend Derek came forward to share some memories about Christian and the very last thing he said was "what's important is not how he died but how he lived his life". Those words were such a comfort to me. Thank you Derek.
I just needed to say that unfortunately I hadn't found out about Christian passing until that April. I hadn't been on my myspace for months due to college and had no other way of knowing. The day I finally went on, I of course went to Christian's profile because he hadn't called me for a while, then I dropped my laptop, heart racing, feeling sick to my stomach, hoping it was a horrible mistake, or some kind of sick joke? I think it was just denial. I frantically went through his posts, and broke down. I never got to attend his memorial, which will hurt me inside forever. Why, so many why's went through my head. Why hadn't I gone on sooner, how did I not know? Why didn't he call me? He knew I was always there for him and would've done anything for him. We had a bond that could never be broken, and yet I felt so broken. How could he do this to me, his family, son's? I left my myspace where it was at for good, him leaving the last message. I refused to use it any longer, and anyone that posted after him was deleted. He was always there for me and I will never forget it. He was and is my Bello, and I was so lucky to have been his first "love" as he was mine :) I will love him forever. Linda, you are the only reason I got through this in one piece. Thank You, your blog was a godsend for me.
ReplyDelete