Rough Times
L-R: Gregory, Dana, Alexandra, Ben and David, Ruth and Jeffrey. Absent: Eric, the eldest son.
This morning, I attended the most difficult funeral I’ve ever been to in my entire life. I’ve lost many people I’ve loved over the years … both of my parents, so many friends … relatives … many of them took a part of me with them when they left. The funeral I went to this morning - was for someone I’d never met, but it was still the most difficult funeral I’ve ever been to.
Her name was Jillian Gaudett Hadley, and she was almost exactly 3 weeks old. She was the precious daughter of Dana and Ruth Hadley, and both of them are stunned - grieving to their depths.
Ruth miscarried last year, and this year, our entire church held its breath as we watched her progress from month to month in her pregnancy. Our rejoicing that she had carried the baby to term turned to shock and horror when we were told that her baby girl was born with Trisomy 13.
The pain in the church this morning was concentrated … palpable. Gasps were heard along with sobs as the tiny casket was carried to the front of the church by the solemn Hadley children.
Once it was over, my son told me that he could sense where the parents were with his eyes closed because of the intensity of their pain. I know exactly what he meant. I hope that I never ever again have to attend a funeral for a tiny, beloved infant.
Joe and Gloria Allis at our church picnic in 2004. They didn’t bring folding lawn chairs, they brought a folding love seat! They were still so much in love - after over 55 years of marriage. We were all a bit envious - as we’d watch Joe fuss over Gloria, open doors for her … they were like young lovers.
I came home from church after our “mercy meal” for the Hadley family, and rested for a short while before leaving for the funeral parlor. A dear friend passed away on Wednesday - Gloria Allis, also a member of my church. Gloria and Joe came on my ministry’s annual pilgrimage to the Canadian Shrines twice, and we became quite close. Although Gloria was so sick with cancer, they were both always so concerned and solicitous of me … and of everyone they got to know.
Tonight, at the funeral parlor, Joe - looking lost - wanted to know how I was. It made me cry. They’ve both always been like that. I’m so afraid of what will happen to Joe now that Gloria is gone.
Tomorrow morning, I’m going to get up early … and head back out to church - for my second funeral in as many days. This time, I’ll be saying good-bye my dear friend, and trying to give my silent support to a man whom I know feels as if he himself has died.
We are so helpless in the face of so much grief.
March 4th, 2006 at 11:52 am
Oh Moof…
I am so, so sorry. I know how you feel and the physical ache you are probably feeling in your heart right now.
You are making familiar emotions resurface.
I had a foster child who came to me pregnant at 14 years of age. She delivered a stillborn baby girl in her third trimester.
I was there for the birth, and the funeral.
It was the hardest thing that I had ever done.
I told God, “I am not doing this to deliver dead babies! This is not part of my job description!”
And so, God in his Grace, showed me why I had to go through that trauma.
He knew what was going to happen with that unborn child. He knew that he would be receiving her in Heaven, even before her earthly birth.
And He knew where the child, who had delivered that baby, needed to be. Out of that trauma, a strong bond developed between me and my foster daughter.
I woke up this morning thinking about that ‘daughter’ of mine. When God brings people to my mind like that during my prayer time, I know that I need to pray for them.
Your post today is God speaking through you to me. My ‘daughter’ is past due a letter from me; a response to a multiple page letter that she had written to me a couple of weeks ago.
I have been *too busy* to sit down and write it.
I must get that letter written to her today.
I am so glad that you have such a loving church family.
Blessings to all of you and I pray “peace to be upon you”.
March 4th, 2006 at 1:11 pm
Moof,
First and foremost, I am so sorry for your loss. The death of a child is never an easy thing to swallow. It seems unnatural. I have been to several children’s funerals. They are never easy, and I cannot imagine the pain those parents must feel. I found this prayer card I thought might bring some comfort at a painful time:
A PLACE WHERE CHILDREN ARE
What kind of place would heaven be with all its streets of gold, if all the souls, that dwell up there like yours and mine, were old? How strange would heaven’s music sound when harps begin to ring, if children were not gathered ‘round to help the angels sing. The children that God sends to us are only just a loan, He knows we need their sunshine to make the house a home. We need the inspiration of a baby’s blessed smile. He doesn’t say they’ve come to stay, just lends them for a while. Sometimes it takes them years to do the work for which they come. Sometimes in just a month or two our Father calls them home. I like to think some souls up there bear not one sinful scar. I love to think of heaven as a place where children are.
Also, I am sorry for the loss of your friend. Better days are sure to follow. Hang in there.
March 4th, 2006 at 2:25 pm
TJ and Pattie … you’re both so sweet. Thank you so much.
Pattie - that poem knocked my socks off. I’ll print it out and pass it on to Dana and Ruth. Thanks, dear heart.
TJ … I don’t know why I’m not surprised that you’ve been through this … intimately. Those kids are so lucky to have you. I don’t know if you realize what an extraordinary person you are. Don’t ever change.
March 4th, 2006 at 3:36 pm
Oh Moof! My heart goes out to you!
To loose two very precious souls, so close together, hardly gives one’s heart a chance to catch a breath.
We had a gentleman in our church who lost his wife a few years back, she’d had a stroke a year before, but you could see how their souls were tied together. The care that he took of her, to gently move her head, or wipe her mouth. She couldn’t move her head …but he’d turn her head when the pastor would move around, to make sure that she could see him as he preached.
When we’d sing, he’d hold her hands, if it was a song we’d clap to, he’d gently tap her fingers to the rhythm.
When we’d pray, his forehead would fall forward touching hers.
I didn’t have the privilege of meeting her pre stroke. I could imagine what they’d been like, and I heard stories.
When she died, he said that his soul went to see Jesus already, but his eyes were still here.
I think I learned more about marriage from that couple than from any book, sermon, class or anything else in my life. Nothing broke my heart more, or touched me as deeply as when she died.
I’m sorry too for the loss of this dear baby. No one should have to bear that pain. Your friends are lucky to have a friend like you to stand by them. It may seem very cruel to have to go to a funeral of an infant, but it’s a goodbye … and that goodbye is helpful in the longrun.
I lost a baby at 20 weeks pregnancy, a little girl. The hospital put 19 1/2 weeks on the medical records. They didn’t ask or tell me anything about it. Later, I found out, in our state, at 20 weeks, you have to bury the child. I would have given anything to have been given that choice. To say goodbye, to have the honor of giving her the proper place. Instead of people treating the whole thing like a cold I’d get over.
5 years later, my sister would also loose a baby at 20 weeks, she was given the choice of 20 weeks or 19 weeks on the records ..she about made me livid when she chose 19 weeks. Funny how different people choose to grieve in different ways.
In the meantime, Gloria will take care of precious Jillian until their loved ones are there with them in the presence of the Father.
March 4th, 2006 at 4:51 pm
Peggikaye, that last impression you left me with - of Gloria holding baby Jillian really moved me. I’m going to make sure to share that imagery with the Hadley’s and Joe Allis.
I’m so sorry that you went through what you did - losing a baby at 5 months is terrible. When I had my first baby, we were sharing an apartment with another young couple … she and I were due less than a month apart. Imagine our shock whenever she delivered a stillborn boy just a few days before her due date. I can’t express the guilt I felt when I brought my perfect little daughter home only three weeks later … joy and relief at having a beautiful, healthy baby - immense guilt for the agony my dear friend was experiencing.
You’re right, people are different … you and I can cry over the loss of a baby, and feel anger when others don’t value their little lives …
… meanwhile …
March 4th, 2006 at 9:09 pm
I pray you find comfort among friends and family in this troubling time.
all the best,
Flea
March 4th, 2006 at 9:53 pm
Dear Dr. Flea … thank you so very much. That means a lot to me!
We have a very tight, small “family community” at our church, and I assure you that everyone is pulling together … we’re circling the wagons around those who are hurting, right now.
It’s been a real experience to be living it all in this last week at the same time as so many of us were discussing some of these issues in the blogs.
This Moof is certain that she’s learning some very apt lessons of late …
March 7th, 2006 at 11:33 pm
My thoughts and my prayers Moof
March 8th, 2006 at 6:15 am
Thank you Fug … I really appreciate that.
March 17th, 2006 at 10:25 pm
[...] If Eric’s name is familiar to you, it’s because not too long ago, I mentioned him in one of my posts. He was the only one missing in the photo … so now you know what he looks like. [...]