Mercury in Scorpio Opposite Uranus - Shocking News
Continued from prior
I could feel the room full. I have a degree of claustrophobia. I guess this is another reason to not look behind me. If I was packed in, I'd not want to know. The preacher or the pastor or whatever his proper title was, shocked me again when he said he was going to read letters from the boy's family.... written to the boy. You've got to be kidding me???
He wasn't kidding and I guess I better fill something in here. This boy had siblings. They were listed in the obit. At least two of them were older. He had a brother with a wife and he also had a sister with a wife. I was surprised when the first letter read was from an older sister. I guess I thought this would be an parent / adult thing. But what she was an adult.
The letter was perfect. Oh my God. She said she was two years old when she became a big sister. She didn't recall much about it. But he was born, she was 11 years old. He was the brother, she didn't know she wanted.
She said she was old enough to help their mom with him. Bottles and diapers and such. She loved him to the bone.
She talked about being told not to love on him when she took him to pre-school and elementary school and such, because he was embarrassed. She did it anyway. She said, she couldn't help herself. She loved him so much, she loved is brown hair and his long eyelashes.
She went on to apologize. She said she was sorry she hadn't seen a lot of him, recently. If she'd have known he needed her, she'd have been there. "I'm sorry, _______. I'm sorry, but I became an adult and I had to leave and become an adult."
Believe it or not, while I cried writing that, I did not cry when it was read. I thought it was beautiful. Outstanding. At the end, she said she'd see him in heaven and I believed her.
To be continued.
It's a good story, though a heartbreaking topic. I am so sorry for the folks who lost their son. That one impulsive moment, if we could only get it back and change the entire ending.
Carrying the dog food through the church and using it as a prop was sure to get the congregations brains thinking in a different direction. It was a good example of choosing your burdens or setting them down. I don't know how much it might have comforted the family, I can only imagine they were in a heavy fog of despair.
And writing and then reading their letters, hopefully this was a way for the siblings to find a bit of closure, a final communication with the little brother they treasured.
I can see his mother stroking his hair, knowing it's her last touch. So devastating.
May God bless them and give them peace.
Since shocking news is the subject, in the past 2 months:
I was rushed into emergency surgery for a stent for a "widow maker" (my doctors words), 99% blockage. The long hard stellium of the past year fell in my 6th. I was dying. I knew it. My muscles atrophied. My brain went blank, I could not think. Yet they could not or did not diagnose me properly and every day I slipped a little further. I began to put my affairs in order.
I was diagnosed with osteoporosis.
I was diagnosed with leukemia.
My FIL died unexpectedly.
Honestly, I just feel numb at this point.
Completing from above...
Several other letters were read. They were all written by siblings. The parents were not part of this. Someone had to have got with the family and come up with this. I can just say it was moving.
One sibling had very little to say, which said a lot. This suggested to me, the person had no words but wanted to say something anyway. Like, whyyyyyyyyyy?
I can't recall what was said after the letters, or how long it took to say it. All I know is the preacher stepped down, abruptly, or at least it seems that way, because as soon as he did, I heard sobbing begin. I am talking about people, a number of them, wailing in grief... from behind me.
I guess this was because the funeral had ended. I didn't know it had ended. I didn't know if someone else was going to get up there and talk but others in the room knew, because the place seemed to erupt in a wave of tears... sobbing. Like all the sudden, there were sobs and soon after, people came walking up the center towards the casket.
After a funeral mass, people leave the back of the church, whenever and however they like. In every funeral I've been to here, it's been the same; the exact opposite. The people in the back row go first. The come up to the front of the church, most of them visit the casket and then they console the family however they feel is appropriate.
This stream of people passed by us. I noticed the family did not stand... I don't think they could. I don't think I could, if I were them. I can't tell you the level of sobbing in that room. It was deafening. This was it. He was gone. It was natural and normal but also, horrible. It was just horrible.
Numerous people were hugging the family on the way out. Three rows of them. Reaching through the chairs. Sobbing, sobbing, sobbing. SOBBING. I could not believe how many people there were. So many, it was clear at some point, not only were all the seats filled, it had to be standing room only and then some. It seemed like ten or more minutes of people streamed by. I finally had to turn around and look. It appeared to me, the ushers had just reached the back row. The sobs continued, all around. The family and the people trying to comfort them or have some comfort themselves we're... well, it was on the verge of chaos, like someone could die from the level of emotion in there. I mean, it was intense AF.
I am sorry for resorting to a cliche but I can feel it, as I write this. I got to wondering if I would be able to walk when my turn came.
Of course I knew I could and would. I have Capricorn. I am just telling you, that what the family went through in these minutes is indescribable, really. I personally think I'd have fainted or fell on the floor up there. It was just too, too much, though it nice people love your kid...and you. I might have crawled under a chair to escape it. I'm not kidding you. Because one person after another approached the parents who were sitting, bent over and poured grief on them.
I'm not saying they did anything wrong. I'm saying, I have no earthly idea how they withstood it. I hoped I was projecting.
Our turn eventually came. The parents were standing to hug at this point. Certain people. I was pretty sure the father would want contact with my husband. I figured I'd stay out of the way of that. Express my condolences the best I could.
I should say - this is covid time. The last funeral I attended (also covid), the widow was exhausted and a bit nervous with all the contact so I had this in mind. My husband and I reached the casket. Mentally, I crossed myself, to say a Catholic-style prayer. My husband probably did the same and we turned to face the parents.
The father stood up as soon as he saw my husband. His wife stood with him. I said something to them, I don't remember what. The father was on the end, so I step out of the way. He grabbed my husband, sobbing. His wife was stricken. She did not know me... I don't think she even knew who my husband was, but her eyes said, can I please hug you. Of course she could, she fell into me and sobbed for as long as she could.
You know, I'm earthy. My husband is earthy and together we have a profound grand trine in earth. I have written about this before, we're like grounding rods. People calm down around us. If you touch us... well, I can feel the emotion run through me and into the ground. We neutralize emotion or I do... sort of like pouring baking soda on acid. Exactly like that, actually.
We stayed with the couple until etiquette dictated we move along. My husband's boss was behind us. We left out the side door and made our way to the car.
The chapel was still half-full when we left. As we drove away, I save 3-4 police cars parked and waiting in various spots to escort the family to the graveyard. This was a very small town. I am sure it was every car they had. I glanced at a couple of them, they looked very sad. We got onto the highway and headed home.
"They are going to be a long time getting out of there, and then they have to bury him..."
That night, the father called my husband, four times. He was not expecting this and had his phone downstairs.
When he saw the calls, he called him back. He wanted to thank us for coming to the funeral. He said it meant a lot.
The father returned to work today, half day. His bereavement paid time off is up, though I'm pretty sure he'll be supported if he can't deal.
He's tattooed his son's name on his arm. His wife has left and proceeding with the divorce.
Right here, I'm at a loss for words.
This is absolutely heartbreaking to read. I'm so sad, I can't put it into words. We just lost a 14 year old girl the next town over to suicide. I'm hearing about it a lot. I said to my husband, I just don't know what I would do. I don't know if I could go on.