Dancing in the Sky sang by Liv Hardland

I looked at Alex after parking my car outside of the white pillared building. I let out a loud breath and looked over at him. “I don’t want to do this.” He nodded and replied, “I don’t either.” I let myself cry for a few seconds- honestly, I hadn’t realized I’d even stopped crying the few days before that. Everything was so blurry as I untangled my hand from Alex’s and we stepped out of the car and toward the funeral home we had picked for William’s funeral.

The building is beautiful. It’s also right next to a pond that William’s cousins, Noah and Cece have always called, “Swan Butt Lake” in observation of the unending lines of ducks and the handful of swans that make this little pond their home in the warm months. Behind the pond there is a very large cemetery filled with other people’s children and I had to compartmentalize that thought as Alex opened the right of the double doors.

A younger, very tall man met us with another kind-smiled man standing next to and a little behind him. It turned out he was training to be a funeral director and so he would be along with us and Jordan (the tall one.) They led us into a room with an oak dining table that had tissues and books as a centerpiece. We sat down and Jordan gently spoke and said, “First, I want to extend my and my family’s condolences to you at this time for William’s passing.”

Alex and I had practiced the response to this line a million times this past week and would master it in the weeks after, but this time felt less controlled for me. I felt the lump in my throat start to come up as I responded with a “thank you” pretty much under my breath. Alex echoed and we both grasped a tissue from the centerpiece. These two men walked us through what options were available and jotted down notes as we responded to each question. “I understand that you planned for cremation?” We said yes. “Would you like a live-stream?” We said yes. And probably one of the most unexpected, “Would you like to view the cremation?” Alex said yes. He had explained to me that he didn’t want William to be alone and I agreed.

When all the questions were answered and all the plans were set, we drove back home and in the coming hours, my mom and I would unpack all of William’s things and decide what would be on display for the service. Alex and I would sit with my sister and mom to pick music- which was one of the most painful of the decisions. I had a few songs in my mind. The first one we listened to was Taylor Swifts, “Bigger than the whole sky.” The sound of Alex’s sobs as we listened to her sing, “Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye… you were bigger than the whole sky” will remain in my memory forever. I’m sure Kenzie and my mom would agree. Then, we listened to “Dancing in the Sky.” Jenna, my best friend since second grade, had recommended this one as she called to check-in with me the couple days after William’s death. As we all sat and listened, we all cried and imagined our good friend, Bailey singing this with William’s Uncle Jer playing guitar. When the song was over, we all nodded in agreement that this was the one. Along with “Oh Your Heart,” the song Jeremy (Uncle Jer) wrote for William and I shared a couple weeks ago.

The day of the memorial service, there were so many people we greeted as they walked in the doors we had walked in a few days before; the ones right next to “Swan Butt Lake.” We had William’s robes and feet and hand molds, picture boards, and packets of Sweet William flowers for everyone to take home and plant. We had a very large canvas print of William with his too-long strand of Beads of Courage draped around his blue eyes and sweet face. We had a journal where people could write notes to William that had started during his weekend of love three days before he took his last breath. Everyone took time to look and touch all of these things and then all found a seat in the chapel.

Alex and I walked into the chapel, followed by family members, while everyone who had found a spot quietly welcomed us. We all filed into the first two pews and then sat through opening remarks and then, Jeremy and Bailey were introduced to sing this song. Jeremy tuned his guitar while we all took deep breaths and Bailey avoided eye contact because, as she said earlier, “no crying until after I sing.” Bailey has a beautiful voice whenever she sings, but hearing her sing that song was absolutely the most pure I had ever heard her sound. It was perfect. So beautiful, that I’ve watched this particular couple minutes of the memorial service over and over again in one sitting. Not to mention how perfect the lyrics are for saying goodbye to William.

That day especially, and a lot of days now, the truth of the words, “Have your fears and your pain gone away? ‘Cause here on earth… everything’s different. There’s an emptiness” rings absolutely true. As William’s mom, I could sense that he was nervous when he looked around the room and couldn’t see someone he recognized. All the machines and lights and noises accompanying the pain he was feeling couldn’t have been comforting. The mention of how everything’s different on earth too… that’s an obvious one. The line that still triggers the ache in my chest every time I hear it, no matter how good the day is going, is, “I hope the angels know what they have. And I’ll bet it’s so nice since you arrived.”

As we’ve talked about in these posts and in person, William was “one in a million.” Medically and just as a baby. He changed a lot of people in a myriad of ways and he honestly made the world a better place when he was here. He left it a more beautiful place too, but it’s different. Everything is different. Especially me- in good and devastating ways. I will carry the ache I mentioned earlier until the day I die. The pain that comes with having a chunk of your heart missing. For the next 60ish years, I’ll be remembering my son instead of getting to watch him grow up. Along with all of those tough, heavy things comes the good and light things that are new about me- I’m more patient and intentional, and I love louder than I did before I met William. I don’t waste time when it comes to relationships; they’re either authentic or I encourage the other person to focus on who they’re authentic with. I am “the most laid-back person in the room,” which was something I was trying to master in the last couple months of that pregnancy.

There is one thing that hasn’t changed since William’s been gone though… I’m still his mom. What a gift that is- to know that he’s dancing where it’s filled with love and light and the short time he was down here, changing lives, I was the one who carried him and did the laboring to bring him here. I got the chance to be the vessel that brought him and his legacy here and that will always be true. Along with being one of the people who dedicates endless time to keeping his legacy breathing while I still am. How tragic and incredible is that?