Flowers

"There are two things you can count on, people are going to say stupid things, and you will get ugly flowers."

These were words of advice I received while planning my husband's funeral. The wise woman who said this was right. People said stupid things, and I got ugly flowers. Before I start this story, please don't give it a second thought if you gave me flowers. Every single gift, card, flower, and plant was immensely appreciated, and truly so kind. In all honestly, there were times in the aftermath when it all was just staggering, so excuse me while I take a moment to vent.

Flowers, cards, presents, stuffed animals, gift cards, plants, plaques, wind chimes, stones, statues, more cards, more flowers, more plants...all meshed together in one giant pile of random chaos. Gifts I hadn't even opened yet, hundreds of cards to read, picture boards, memorabilia, and guestbooks, all engulfed my home. The walls were closing in as I looked around me. It was a funeral dumping ground.

The funeral was over. Riley was gone. It was final. The decade of our life together, beautiful photos, incredible memories, just scattered in a mess on the floor. Our family photo which encompassed the "American Dream," stared me in my face. I was gutted. My head spun. In the course of those past 10 blurry days, I had involuntarily road a violent emotional rollercoaster. One that made me physically ill, one that I so desperately wanted off of. So, I did myself a favor and decided at that moment to jump off. My legs wobbled and shook as I steadied myself onto the floor and tangled myself in all of the chaos. And for one of the first times since Riley went to heaven, I looked around and didn't feel anything. Nothing. I was completely numb.

I wholeheartedly believe that God gives us shock and numbness as an antidote to the incomprehensible pain that we as humans are not capable of feeling. God gave me that gift as I sat frozen in a nightmare that couldn't possibly be my reality. I sat in silence while my family unloaded things around me. For a moment time stood still. My mind went into overdrive. I thought to myself, "Do I pack it all away in neat tidy boxes? No...I can't put our life in boxes. Do I keep all of these plants alive? No... I can barely keep myself alive. Do I let the flowers die? No... I can't bear to watch them die. And then it happened. I lost it. Every bit of self-control oozed out of me as I screamed at the top of my lungs, "WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH ALL OF THESE FLOWERS?!?" In an instant, I went from numbness to rage, from idleness to anger.

Before I go on, I have to admit, I had countless people comment in confusion about how perfectly poised I was while I carried my husband's urn out of the church on the day of his funeral. His ashes were in my arms while I held my head high with no tears. I was also complimented in disbelief on how much strength I had in the hours and days after the accident. That week I somehow managed the enormous responsibility of greeting the masses. I comforted hundreds of people in the grief we shared as they came from all over the state and country to mourn with me. From standing on the highway to sitting in the trauma bay... from the ICU to the funeral home. I somehow was able to make every single decision that came with the sequence and consequences of those events. All of it, a weight that I believe is physically and humanly impossible to carry. So, how did I survive this? How did I possibly get here staring at a room full of funeral flowers? How on earth did I carry the magnitudes of this devastation?

I didn't, Jesus did. It was just Jesus. He gave me a strength that made zero sense. He looked at his child, mangled in grief and sorrow, and came to my rescue. He lovingly picked me up and carried me through the violent flames of a fire named tragedy. Truthfully, in the hours and days after Riley met Jesus, I didn't even have the words or energy to pray out loud. Thank God I didn't have to, because he already knew. He interceded on my behalf. He held my hand and heart, and I didn't even have to ask. He gently bent down and lifted my head and straightened my crown. He reminded me I was the daughter of the King. He put it all on his back and not only did he carry it, he handled it. It was an out-of-body experience that I will never forget in my whole life. God himself covered me in his perfect shield of peace and protection and held on so tightly while the wreckage of grief and havoc rained all around me.

But I am still human, I am so incredibly flawed. So when my temper finally ruptured, I looked at my family and it was as if they were waiting patiently for this moment to happen. It was as if their eyes said, "Ah...there it is." It was only a matter of time. There had to be a moment when I completely lost it and fell apart. So I did. I crumbled in the chaos of the funeral dumping ground that was my home. My mom and sister-in-law immediately started cleaning, sorting, and organizing. My dad and brother hardly said words. They simply started taking loads of flowers and plants out to the back patio to die. They sat them on the concrete in the middle of winter so I didn't have to look at them in my home. What a bizarre visual. Snow had just fallen in the field behind our home and there they sat. Bright, beautiful bouquets that would soon succumb to the elements to shrieval up and die.

Really? Out of the weight of everything, funeral flowers made me fall to pieces. It truly was just all so overwhelming. Just as I was about to buckle up for another round on the emotional roller coaster, my mom gestured in disbelief out of the front window to my driveway. I could have picked her jaw up off the floor. In the middle of my rage, a truck from our local flower shop was pulling up. This cannot be real. The doorbell rang. I pulled it together for 30 seconds. I greeted the deliverer at the door in pure silence as she handed me a big bouquet of ugly flowers. She smiled and said, "Have a great day!!" It was a miracle she did not experience my wrath. I slammed the door and started sobbing. The words echoed in my mind as I thought to myself, "It was true, people say stupid things and give you ugly flowers."