The Hearse

October 30, 2023

We passed a hearse on the highway the other day.

It was the first time I had seen one since your funeral.

The sight of the hearse brought a flood of memories of your funeral.  I know I was present for it but I’m sure I was in shock the entire time.  I remember welcoming the many, many incredible people that came to pay their respects to you.  The rest of it though, I think I had blocked out until that moment.

The hearse reminded me of entering the church and seeing you in your casket.  My baby, in a casket. You looked like yourself and not at all at the same time. You were so cold, stiff and still - things you never were in your life.

It reminded me of the moment in the service where we had to close your casket….when your sister wanted to grab your hand as they were shutting the lid over your sweet little body.

It reminded me of following the pal bearers holding you in a casket. I remember sobbing and your sister holding my hand.  I don’t know how I managed to put one foot in front of the other - the pain was like no other and I knew where we were headed was going to be the most impossible.

I remember arriving at the hearse and seeing your casket get carefully lifted inside. I knew these were the last moments before you were taken away and cremated.  I remember placing a flower on your casket and then seeing family doing the same.

I remember the funeral director waiting for the last flower to be placed and then motioning for the door to be closed.

The driver drove away so slowly and cautiously.  I knew you were safe.  I knew you weren’t in there. I kept telling myself that over and over trying to pacify my broken heart.

You were in heaven.  You’d been up in paradise for 5 days already and there was no way you’d even think about coming back.

From up there, you didn’t care at all about your earthly body.  I’m sure you didn’t even know you were cremated. I know there isn’t hate in Heaven but, if you could hate something, I’m sure it would’ve been that body. No one could blame you either - the agony and suffering you endured in your beautiful, diseased body compared to the joy and bounce you have in your heavenly body, how could you not?

My momma heart hurts extra today.  I hate that you’re gone.  I hate that we had to plan your funeral.  I hate that we had to pick our favourite photos for the funeral slideshow.  I hate that I had to pick outfits for the saddest event of our lives.  I hate that we had to make decisions about flowers, poems, and caskets.

I wish I hadn’t had to do any of it.  I wish it was just a really long, vivid nightmare.  I wish you were still here and miraculously better.

Oh, Georgie…I know it happened. I know you’re in an urn instead of our arms. You’re living the greatest life running and laughing, pain free forevermore. Even though the, “Why us,” question rolls around often, I realize I won’t know the answer this side of heaven.

Until then, I’ll do what you did every day - Cry when the pain is big and try to make the world a better place on the good days.

Miss you always, Honeybee.