Chassity's Funeral

Today was Chassity's funeral. It was a beautiful service. And her touch was in every aspect of it. There were butterfly decorations on a Christmas Tree. There were dragonflies and butteflies and ladybugs and dolphins on the programs and cards. And her coffin was decorated with some beautiful butterflies and dragonflies as well.

The service was very eloquent. The minister didn't overdo it... but he also picked some really great passages and said some really kind things.

Lori Holt gave her eulogy before I did. I couldn't imagine a better person. Her ability to stand in front of people and speak so beautifully... even though she herself has lost such an amazing little boy... just leaves me speechless.

Afterwards, I delivered my eulogy. It was a little nerve-wracking, because I didn't realize how cotton-mouthed and dry I was going to be. In the end, I think I was able to give Chassity what she wanted. Everyone got a chance to laugh along with my favorite stories of her... but in the end... all of us were brought to tears when we thought about what a kind and special girl she was. I've posted my Eulogy to her on this site as well.

I held it together through most of the service. I started to stumble a bit in the end. But I held it together.

On the way out, we were each able to take a butterfly ornament from her tree. The ornaments were beautiful. And I couldn't imagine a better way to remember her.

After her service, at the burial, we put stickers of butteflies on her funeral as we passed by to say goodbye... and we got to release blue, pink, white, and purple balloons into the sky.

Ironically... one of the pink balloons got away first... and was way ahead of the rest, much like Chass herself.

Her burial site is in the mountains... surrounded by large fields full of horses and barns. It's really beautiful. And it was all the more special, because I knew that Chass had selected this location.

Afterwards, we went back to their house... and we ate... and we talked... and we laughed...

It was great to see some of the kids and the families that had been through treatment with Chassity... I got to see Marshall and his girlfriend, Marie; Ashleigh, Heather, and Penny; Parker, Mark, and Kathy; Loren and Susan; Peter's Mom; the Felds; Beth; and of course, Lori.

There's such a special bond when you go through an experience like Cancer. And I'm always happy to see families and patients that are no longer going in for continuous treatment.

As for me... I am... exhausted... Grief is such a strange emotion... I haven't really had a good cry today... and I know that it's going to hit me at some point. But there's so much numbness. It's like your brain and your heart go into self-protect mode. All I know is that I know the cry is in there somewhere... and I just have to poke at it enough for it to come out... But until then... I just want to sleep for 3 or 4 days straight... It's strange, because my grief for every child I've lost... has been a little bit different... I don't know why that's the case... but it is...

I am very happy for Chass... because I know that she is in complete comfort and totally free of pain. Her last few days were truly miraculous. Neuroblastoma can be very painful towards the end... many patients end up having to take massive amounts of morphine. Chass was morphine free for the last 2 days of her life... and was relatively morphine-less during the last few weeks.

I was on the phone with her Mom just an hour before Chass ended up dying. And so the last thing Chass heard before she passed was that Mom had talked to me... and that I sent her love... even though I had told Chass how much I loved her many many times... it is a great comfort to know that this was among the last words Chass ever heard.

I know that many of my friends... are kind of at a loss for words... I know that different people deal with death and dying in different ways... I know that even though I have told many people about what's been going on... I have only received 5 or 6 emails or calls.... and I know that this isn't because people don't care... I know that for the most part... people don't know what the right words are...

But if I could share one bit of advice... it doesn't matter what you say... just getting some kind of acknowledgement of the fact that you are aware that I am hurting... means the world to me... and to anyone who is grieving... it's a very lonely feeling to put your heart out there and tell people that you are going through this kind of grief... and to not hear back from anyone...

I'm not sure what the next few days are going to be like... I'm sure that for the most part... no one will even know anything is wrong with me... and for the most part... they will be right... but I also know that at random moments... I will probably find myself coming undone... and fighting back tears... I know that if my friend, Darshita were here... I could bury my head in her shoulder and just cry until I can't cry anymore... because she has been there for me in that way... and I know that she wishes she could be here for me in that way, now... and if she's reading this... I hope she knows that just knowing that she wants to be there for me in that way... gives me immense comfort.

But sometimes... you don't always have your safety blanket... and you just have to carry it... and that's where I am now...

I feel like this closes a very big part of what my life was about... there aren't too many other Onc kids that I'm still close to... So I don't anticipate being in this type of position of grief again for a long time... So in a way... I am relieved to have gotten through this stage of my life... and I am grateful that I got through it intact...

I just hope for God's strength... to carry me through until it doesn't hurt so much to breathe...

It makes me happy to think about God's newest angel... and the big party they are having together... Michelle L., Nicklaus, Allie, Geraldine, Branden, Mark, Dianne, Michelle, Ryan, Michelle O., James, Edgar, Matt, Victoria, Alex, Josh, Michael, and Chass...

I just pray for those of who are still here... and are sad because we can't physically see them anymore...

Cancer is awful. And losing these kids is one of the worst experiences I have ever dealt with. But I know that it's nothing compared to how awful it would have been... never to have met them... and had the chance to walk with them... even if it was far too short a time.