I began my last post stating that a lot has happened recently. The creation of the song inspired by the loss of my daughter was one "happening." But other serious life issues have taken place as well.
One of them began on Wednesday night, September 11th. As Eddie and I were just getting into bed to hopefully get a good night's sleep, Eddie's cell phone rang somewhere between 11:00 and 11:30 pm. After he answered, I heard him say, "Okay, Mom, we're on our way!" Before I even knew what was going on, we were both frantically changing out of our pj's and scurrying around to find our shoes, glasses, contacts, etc....during which Eddie was in a panic trying to dial 911 on his cell phone while explaining to me that Mom had been crying on the phone and saying that something was wrong with Buddy. "Buddy" is what Eddie has always called his dad from the time that he was a little boy. His dad used to call him "Buddy" and so Eddie did the same. And it stuck....even as a 48 year old man, he still calls his dad "Buddy."
I asked him if Mom offered any details as to what was going on. He said no, but that she was extremely upset. We jumped in the car and drove the two miles to his parent's house, which seemed like a hundred miles that night. I held on tightly to the dash board of the car as Eddie zoomed the very familiar back roads at about 65 mph, praying that no deer would jump out in front of us. Our hearts were racing and only one thing kept going through my mind. "Please Lord, let Buddy be okay. We don't need another loss right now."
We burst through the door of his parents' house and heard commotion coming from the bedroom upstairs. We bounded up the steps as quickly as our legs would move and saw Buddy laying on his side on the bed, still in his usual attire of jeans, flannel shirt, suspenders and black tennis shoes. Mom was standing there crying, trying to help him. Through her tears, she explained that she and Buddy had just gotten upstairs to get ready for bed. She went into the bathroom and heard Buddy make a funny noise. She yelled, "Dad, are you okay?" But there was no answer. She found him collapsed on the bed, trying to breathe and then called us. He was still alive at this time, so Eddie and I got him down to the floor so that CPR could be administered. Eddie tried his hardest, doing chest compressions and trying to get air in his lungs, while I kept checking for a pulse and yelling to Buddy to wake up and stay with us. After only a few minutes, Buddy went limp and I couldn't find a pulse. Before I knew what I was saying, I looked up at Mom and whispered, "I'm so sorry." I ran downstairs to see where the rescue team was while Eddie continued working on his dad. It seemed like it was taking the ambulance forever to get there. We all live in a pretty remote area, so hearing the sirens within five minutes of an emergency call doesn't happen like I was used to growing up in the city.
I ran around to the front of the house when I saw the flashing lights in the distance and started jumping up and down, frantically waving my arms in the air to get their attention. I could tell that the driver was trying to figure out which house was ours and within seconds, they saw me and sped up to get to the house quickly.
The next two hours seemed to go by in slow motion. The paramedics taking Buddy out on the stretcher. Trying to get Mom safely into the ambulance. Following the ambulance during the 12 mile commute to the hospital. Pacing back and forth in the Emergency Room waiting area. Our parish pastor, whom I called to ask and come be with us, walking into the restricted area of the ER department to see what was happening with our dad....and returning shortly to whisper to me that he didn't make it with sympathy in his eyes. The entire family walking back to the cold, white room...Mom, Eddie, his two sisters, brother-in- law, nephew, niece and her best friend and myself standing around Buddy's now peaceful, lifeless body. The doctor saying that he was sorry.
Another tragic loss for our family.
Eddie looked at me and said, "He's holding his granddaughter now."
Over the next week, we were surrounded by the familiar family and friends who showed so much love, support and prayers as they grieved another loss with us. It pained me to see my husband's heart ripped out once again, only two short months after losing our daughter. I prayed to God in my heart, "We are going to need your grace more than ever, Lord."
We gave Buddy a great "send off" with a beautiful funeral Mass on a cool, sunny, end-of-summer, September morning. Our home parish choir came to sing for the Mass and Eddie's sister gave a beautiful eulogy in honor of her dad with her older brother, Eddie and her younger sister standing on either side of her in the front of the church before we took Buddy to his final resting place. I had no doubt that Buddy was smiling from ear to ear as he watched his children pay such a beautiful tribute to him.
As Eddie and I climbed into his truck to join the procession to the cemetery, I felt a familiar knot in my throat and panic began to set in. Eddie's parents' resting places are very near where Anna was buried only two short months ago. I have not been back to Anna's grave since that Sunday afternoon, only two days after our daughter's funeral and burial, where I reeled with panic and anxiety when Eddie tried to take me there to "visit" our daughter. I knew in my heart that I still wasn't ready to visit her gravesite, but I had no choice but to face being so close to it as we laid Buddy to rest.
When we arrived at the cemetery, I intensely avoided looking toward Anna's gravesite and kept my eyes and mind focused on the task ahead to support our Mom, my sisters-in-law, and of course my husband as we said our final goodbyes to Buddy. Then, after the final burial prayer service concluded, I felt Eddie leading me toward Anna's grave, saying, "Sweetie, do you want to go see our daughter?" My heart screamed "NO!" but I heard myself saying, "I guess so." I didn't want to disappoint him.
But with each step that I took toward where her body was laying in the ground, the familiar pain of emptiness in my belly and chest increased. Although we were in the midst of a crisp, clear late morning of fresh air, I somehow couldn't breathe. I let go of Eddie's hand and said, "I can't. I'm sorry."
I quickly walked in the opposite direction and caught site of my parents' white minivan. I couldn't get there fast enough. As I hyperventilated against the van, I could see out of the corner of my eye people gathered around Anna's grave, laying red roses on it. All I could do was sob and repeat over and over, "I can't do it." The next thing I knew, my mom's arms were holding me and she was crying with me and saying, "You don't have to, Carrie. It's okay."
I calmed down and walked to our truck and waited for Eddie. He apologized when he got there. But I assured him there was nothing to apologize for. I'm so glad that he is able to visit our daughter's grave. And it did bring me comfort to know that so many wanted to visit there as well. I am just not ready. Once again, it's a painful reminder that Anna is not where she is supposed to be right now...in my womb. I'm hoping that once we get passed her due date of October 27th, I will be able to visit her gravesite with peace and not have that excruciating pain anymore.
Later that day, Eddie's mom, his sisters and Eddie wanted to go back to Buddy's gravesite to retrieve some of the flowers left there. I was asked if I wanted to go along. I wanted so much to support them so I said yes. I just told myself that I don't have to go near Anna's grave, and after that morning's episode, I knew they wouldn't ask me to either.
We spent some time at Buddy's gravesite and collected flowers to make beautiful bouquets for each of us to take home. Then we walked around the cemetery while Eddie and his sisters and Mom showed me the resting places of some their friends and family. While we were there, I got a phone call on my cell phone from a woman in Pittsburgh who I had been playing phone-tag with for Eddie and I to get involved with a grief support group for parents who have lost children due to miscarriage, pre-term birth or infant loss. I was grateful to take the call because it was a welcomed distraction while they were walking around the cemetery and even spending some time near Anna's grave.
I thought I had done well during that second trip to the cemetery that day, but by the time we arrived back to Mom's house with our collected flowers, I was completely drained. While they were chatting in the kitchen, I retreated alone to the living room and let out the tears I had been holding in. Eddie later came in to the living room and held me tight for awhile. Then I asked him if we could go for a drive to just get a change in scenery for awhile. He gladly accepted and we spent the evening winding down from all the painful events of the day.
There's more to share....but it will have to come later, when I have more time to write.
Until then, here's a scripture that came to me last night. It brought me to a place of certainty that God will not allow us to be tempted beyond our ability to endure the temptation to give up on hope and give in to the sin of doubting God.
"The temptations in your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you can endure." -1 Corinthians 10:13
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