The Funeral

Since we first heard David’s diagnosis at nine weeks, this was the day we had dreaded most of all. The day we would have to let go of David’s earthly body.

We decided to have a family-only graveside service. We knew our friends and co-workers and neighbors would come to support us and celebrate David, but it just seemed more fitting to limit this particular time to family. It was easier for us, and especially for our children, to only have people they knew very well at the service. We had an informal visitation at the funeral home first. David’s siblings all wanted to see him. They had drawn pictures and written cards for him, and we tucked those in the side of his casket. His bonnet was on backwards so I had to have that turned around. Then other family members came to see him. The children were so proud to show off their baby brother. They have been such an encouragement to us throughout our journey with David. They can’t imagine anything better than him going to heaven with Jesus, and their childlike faith is a treasure to us.

Here’s an email I got from Papa Gene (Jacob’s great-grandfather) after the service: “In the stressful beauty of these days with you and our David, I enjoyed a surprise Christian mountain top experience yesterday. When we first walked into the lobby of the funeral home, the room was filled to capacity with David’s family. But all by himself Jacob spotted me, immediately ran over to me, took my hand and told me he wanted me to see David with him. Held my hand and led me straight to see little David in a most beautiful way. He stood by me in solemn reverence as we both appreciated and loved his baby brother David. It spoke volumes about this young child man and your parenting. Thank you and please thank Jacob for me.”

We buried David in a beautiful christening gown and sweet little booties that were given by a local baby boutique. On his head he wore a little fitted cap that was made just for him by a friend of Honey’s, and then over that a handkerchief bonnet made by his great-grandma, Mama Rita. He was wrapped in one of the many beautiful crocheted and knitted blankets we received (we ended up with five and that was perfect—one to bury with David, and one to give to each of our other children in memory of their brother), and we tucked in a blue baby Bible and his little white lamb lovey that the children had been taking turns sleeping with for the past several months. His casket was made by Trappist monks in Iowa—handcrafted from oak and prayed over as it was being built. (link here—the monks have a holy ministry through their casket building and we were thankful for this beautiful cradle for David’s body to rest in).

We left the funeral home and went to the graveside. We had requested David’s casket be closed before the service, and we laid a bouquet of white roses on his casket. They were the only flowers I wanted. Our pastor began the service, and then the Gent read Revelation 21:1-5 over David. Our pastor reminded us of God’s promises and faithfulness and that we will be reunited with David. How thankful we are that this is not the end. Then we listened to a recording of David’s great-great grandfather (and namesake) singing “His Eye is on the Sparrow.” (And next to my chair, Sophie danced her little recital dance to it.) The music was perfect and made the service very personal to us. We all recited the Lord’s Prayer together, and then our pastor gave the closing prayer. Our extended family left and the Gent and kids and I stood by the casket for a few moments. I put my hand over David and released his earthly body to the ground, and his soul to heaven. It may have been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I am so thankful for David’s tiny life, and for the extra days as he waited in the womb past his due date. What precious time we had together as he grew inside me. As his name means, he is my beloved son. May his memory continue to bring a reminder of the true shalom peace that comes from our Lord Jesus Christ.