Malachi's service to celebrate his life was the most beautiful service I have attended. The most beautiful service I never wanted to attend. No parent should know the agony of what it is like to attend your baby's memorial service. I vividly recall sitting in the "family" room waiting for it to begin. Uncontrollable sobs wretched my body and I felt like my heart was going to explode. There were times I forgot to breathe. Getting up to enter the service I nearly collapsed. This couldn't be reality, this isn't happening, I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare. My husband nearly had to drag me through the doors. He held me up as sunglasses shielded my eyes and I walked the aisle. The same aisle we had walked to take our vows. The aisle where our life together really began, and the aisle where our "for better or worse" was tested to the limit. My gaze lifted from the floor and from behind shielded eyes I saw everyone who had come to celebrate my beautiful Malachi's life. Hundreds came. To honor us, to honor him and his memory, to remember him, to comfort us, to support us and to let us know most of all, we were not alone. Soft music played. A beautiful photograph taken of us in our final moments with Malachi was displayed. His favorite books, tiny hats he wore, blankets lovingly made for him and the squeaky toys from his nurses he loved so much were all displayed. His things. I clutched the blanket I held him for the first time with and for the last time close, along with a beautiful photograph a friend had framed. I still cannot believe this is happening. The service was opened, a reading of the verse we had chosen to represent him was read (Hebrews 6:19), worship music began to play and be sung. The hardest worship I have ever done. How can you worship God, who called your baby home and away from your arms? "Oh how He loves us" filled the air, and my husband arose with lifted hands and tears streaming down his face and showed me, how in this impossibly difficult circumstance, we can still arise to trust God and worship him. Even when the words won't come because you are choked with tears, God still knows our heart. "He's got the whole world in His hands.....He's got Malachi James in His hands"...I broke further. The pieces of my shattered heart felt like they broke even more. This is real. My Malachi is gone, we are having a service to honor his life. A slideshow played, the most hauntingly beautiful song "..tell me my love, is heaven beautiful?.." photographs of a life with so much impact..more tears, wretching/painful/excruciating tears, I realize there would be no more pictures, no more moments with my Chi..A poem/letter was read on behalf of my sister-in-love who was out on the mission field. Words of how she had longed to meet him, yet how much he inspired her and how much she loved him. My heart breaks further for our family members who never got a chance to meet this beautiful soul in person. If only he could've made it 20 more days. Why now God? A friend who has become like a sister to me (and even that doesn't appear to be a good enough title for who she is to me) spoke on mine and LaRon's behalf. The most beautiful words spoken, so honoring to the legacy my Malachi leaves with us. I had asked her to honor his nurses specifically. She knew how much they meant to me and the words were perfect and as they were named individually, applause filled the air. I would've applauded them for hours for them to know how much they mean to me. After all, aside from me and LaRon, they knew him best. They were my constant connection to my angel. His eulogy was read, my own words to honor his life, how do you sit through hearing "he is survived by...." This can't be real. Our Pastor, Rick Cole, took the podium and delivered the greatest sermon, through tear filled eyes. A sermon of hope. A sermon of holding onto that hope. "sometimes our treasures get there (heaven) ahead of us; I think that's something worth holding onto..." Truth. Hope in the midst of the darkest circumstance we have ever faced. Hope that anchors us. Then it was over. complete, closed with prayer. We walked back out of the sanctuary into the reception. Friends and family wanted me to sit down, to eat, oh how I have the greatest support around me. All I wanted to do, though, was join my husband in hugging, crying with, and thanking all those that came to honor Malachi's life. So I did. We stood together, united. It felt right. Memories were shared, stories shared to us of the impact he'd had, love was overflowing to us. At the end of the reception we did a balloon release. Light blue, because our Malachi's eyes were turning blue and they were beautiful. Balloons floated high, wishes, memories, messages going with them. Tears again. It was over.
We have heard from many that Malachi's service was so impacting, life changing and beautiful. We are so thankful that even in his passing, his life continues to touch so many. It helps us to know that this journey has not been in vain. Everything about his service was [horribly] perfect. Perfectly chosen program design, words, music and mementos to remember a life gone too soon.
Thank you to everyone who was able to be with us that day, and everyone who was with us in spirit to help celebrate the life of our tiny warrior. We will hold those memories forever.
It truly was the most beautiful service, that I never wanted to attend.
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