I Suck At Attending A Service For Remembrance

On Tuesday, Karen and I atttended the 17th Annual Service of Remembrance at the Old South Union Church which is directly across from South Shore Hospital. Now, I suck at attending a service for remembrance.

The service is basically for families who have lost their children through various things like miscarriages, unexpected pregnancy outcomes, still births, early infant deaths, etc. For those who know me, they would know that I am not much for religious faith, especially having lost our son (Braden) who was born extremely premature.

We had attended the 16th annual event last year shortly after Braden's passing. From what I remember last year, the service was difficult to get through as I constantly thought about Braden and all the things that I would never be able to do with him. Truth be told, the entire past year has been much of a total blur to me. If I did not know any better, I would have sworn that I lost a year of my life.

This year, the service was not any different. You would think that a year later, things would be easier. Needless to say, the thoughts of Braden overwhelmingly rushed back when we attended the service. For one night though, it was definitely nice to hear my son's name being read aloud and honored.

One of the things that happens at the service, aside from the reading of the names of children who passed away, is that families are allowed to share thoughts or stories with everyone else in attendance. The sharing functions almost like a support group. Last year, a woman wrote a poem about the loss of her child. This year, she returned and wrote another poem. It was touching.

Although I would never get up to the podium myself to address everyone, I have at times wondered what I would say if I ever did. My speech would probably be something like this:

"Hi, my name is Mike. My son, Braden, was born extremely premature. My wife, Karen, and I were lucky enough to be with him for his one and only week after he was born.

I always thought pregnancy was a great thing. Television and the media made child birth seem like such an easy thing. People get pregnant. They have a baby. It's not until we actually lost our child that I realized that having a child is more difficult that what is on tv.

When we lost Braden, I ran through the gamut of emotions: sadness, anger, helplessness. In fact, I still feel those emotions at various random times. I don't think I will ever stop feeling those emotions when it comes to Braden.

I still wonder how this could happen? What could I have done differently? How could I have prevented it? Why did it happen?

If were any bit religious, I would be asking God the same questions. I would probably be angry with him for even letting it happen, or perhaps even blame him for taking Braden away from me. Of course, those pious enough would probably tell me that the Lord works in mysterious ways, which loosely translates to the fact that they have no idea themselves.

I know I will never get any concrete answers. For me, it's the not-knowing that makes it difficult to come to grips with my son's passing. The best that I can do is create my own rationale to explain Braden's passing: that he sacrificed himself for his family... for his future siblings... in order to inform his parents that they needed more help during pregnancy.

It's not much of a rationale, but it's at least something that I can believe in that will take away some of the grief. So thank you Braden. You will forever be missed. Mommy and Daddy will always love you."

I don't know. I guess my speech would be something like that.

Needless to say, it was a touching night. Karen and I actually went out to eat at Bertucci's in Hingham after the service. Interestingly enough, one of the families that attended the service also went to Bertucci's. I guess Bertucci's was the place to go after the service.