to the grave. When she looked in that direction, she gasped sharply. There, sitting on a little platform, was a small, white container that looked a lot like a cooler. She looked at Eric, questions in her eyes. He nodded and said, “That’s him.”
She wasn’t sure exactly how to react, there were so many emotions competing for her attention at once. Not only had she just arrived at her child’s funeral, but she had to deal with the fact that he was sealed inside of a casket that looked just like the Rubbermaid cooler they had at home. They had just used it for a picnic they had been invited to earlier that summer. That day seemed like a million years ago – so much had happened since then. A group of friends, about five couples, had decided to get together for a picnic at Minnehaha Falls. It had been a glorious summer day, the kind that is perfect for relaxing on a blanket and watching the clouds change form. She didn’t know if she’d ever want to use it again.
Okay, Annie, she told herself, you can handle this. This is how baby caskets look. Accept it and move on.
She glanced at Eric for guidance what to do next, but he was distracted, talking to some of their friends. Looking around, she made a conscious effort to notice who took the time out of their busy lives to be there. Standing in a small cluster near the road stood some of Eric’s coworkers. She was a little surprised to see them here, since they had decided that only family and a handful of close friends should attend the service, but what could she do? Ask them to leave? She had never even met two of the women in the group. One of them was rather plain and dowdy, wearing a shapeless cotton dress that was made out of a small floral print. Her hair was light brown and pulled back into a thin ponytail. She had a kind, but plain face, her eyebrows knit into a furrow of sadness and concern. Her eyes remained focused on the ground. It seemed to Annie that she was afraid to look up, to see the reality of what was happening around her. Annie found herself empathizing with the strange woman, because she felt much the same way.
The other woman was a different story. She was not plain and dowdy, but just the opposite. She was stunning. Tall and slender, she wore her sleeveless black sheath with graceful elegance. Her arms were tanned and toned as were her bare legs that seemed to go on forever. Blonde hair gently grazed her shoulders and glistened in the sun. She was not looking down, but rather was surveying the area with a boldness that seemed out of place. When their eyes met, the hairs on the back of Annie’s neck stood up and she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had seen the woman only a couple of weeks before, the day a limo had arrived at the house to take Eric to a work event at a water park in Wisconsin. It had caused a huge fight when he returned home, since he’d been out nearly all night. Shaken by this visceral reaction, Annie averted her gaze to Dillon’s little casket. Oddly enough, that seemed to calm her down, comfort her and allow her the time she needed to gather her composure. Why had the blonde woman chosen to come? Annie’s heart was beating wildly even thinking about it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was the priest. He quietly said, “ Should we get started?” Looking at him, she nodded.
She knew she had to go through this, just as she had gone through the labor and delivery. She remembered her Grandma’s favorite saying: “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” But I don’t want to be stronger, she thought. I just want Dillon back. Again she looked for Eric. She needed him near her now, next to her. She felt frail and fragile and ready to break into a thousand tiny pieces as she stood there. Alone.
The priest had made his way over to where the Rubbermaid casket sat on top of the green crushed velvet drape that covered a mound of dirt and busied himself looking over the passages from Scripture he had chosen to read that afternoon. Sunlight bounced off the white plastic finish of the casket as the branches of nearby trees were blown gently around by the balmy June breeze. It made Annie sad to think of Dillon being there all alone, and she walked over to be near him. She reached out her hand and patted the casket softly, as though it were his newborn baby cheek. It’s okay, sweetie, she thought, Mommy’s here.
Suddenly it seemed very quiet. A hush had descended upon the group gathered there. She glanced around and realized that everyone had taken her walk over to the casket as a signal that the service was about to start. They had formed a small semicircle behind her and all stood there looking at her. Some were crying, others were dry-eyed but composed. There were a few whose eyes were focused on the grass or the trees or the pair of geese that basked in the sunshine at the base of a large, marble monument nearby -- anywhere but at Annie and the tiny white box. They could not bring themselves look at her or at the casket because it simply made them too uncomfortable. In her mind’s eye she could see herself as they saw her and couldn’t blame them -- it was a painful sight to behold.
Eric appeared at her side, seemingly from out of nowhere. His hand found hers and gave it a squeeze. The priest must have been waiting for this, because upon seeing Eric, he began the service. Annie’s mind drifted during the priest’s opening remarks about the uncertainty and unfairness of life and how someday we would see Dillon again. She let it drift on purpose, because to listen to his well meaning words would have surely made her run up there and strangle him. He meant well. He was just doing his job and he truly believed what he said. After all, he was a priest. How could he know? Had his baby ever died? The voice of one of her best friends reeled her back to reality. She was reading from The Little Prince by Saint-Exupery, just as Annie had requested.
In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...You - only you will have stars that can laugh!
The words reminded her of the night Dillon was born and the star she had seen from the hospital window. She had read The Little Prince in high school and for some reason had remembered the part about the star at the last minute. She would never forget the courage and kindness it took for her friend to read it that day. It was the final reading of the service, the last words spoken.
No one knew what to say or do. Eric’s parents invited everyone to their house for something to eat. It was the logical thing to do -- it seemed too early to go home, Eric had reasoned. One by one people said quick good-byes and walked to their cars parked one behind the other along the edge of Babyland. Bits and pieces of their words floated toward Annie through the humid air.
“See you at the house.”
“Be there in a few minutes.”
“You can follow us, if you want.”
Annie was riveted to the spot where she stood next to Dillon’s casket. It was as though her feet had grown roots that ran deep -- roots that would cradle her baby underground, keeping him safe and warm forever. How could she just leave him there, all alone? Again, as they had so many times in the days since he had come into the world, her arms ached and her heart hurt. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to give herself some comfort.
“Come on, Annie,” Eric said as he walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s time to go.” He remained there, keeping his distance from the casket.
“It seems so cruel to just leave him here,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper.
“Well, you can’t stay here,” the weariness in his voice was deafening.
“I know, but he’s all alone.”
Eric looked around as the last of the mourners got into their cars and prepared to leave.
“Annie, everyone’s going to my parents’ house now. We’re supposed to be there. Come on -- let’s go.” He took a few steps away from her, as if that would make her leave.
When she failed to follow him, he stopped
