Funeral day, birthday and Figgy

We have had our share of deaths in our family. We are no strangers to funeral planning, obituaries, and eulogies. Every time there’s been a family death, we seem to have a hand in the planning. We know the drill.

Funeral planning like this was SO hard. Once the coroner had called to say we could have Ryan picked up, the process started. Erik and I did this on our own, our way. I was such a basket case the day we went to the funeral home. I cried all the way there. Where normally this is where I can take charge and get the task done, I sat there at the table bawling and just completely numb. I couldn’t even pick his casket, Erik had to do it. Also, try planning a funeral during a pandemic. We were only allowed 20 people. That’s very small never mind when its for a child. How do you decide? Luckily we are a small family and we were able to put together a list of family and very close friends.

It was depressing, I did not like the way it all went and the only thing I cared about was seeing my child after one full week after he had passed away. I didn’t know what to expect, I only got to see a small part of his face at Sick kids the night he passed away. My older son and I had selected his favourite clothes and shoes. No suit or dressy stuff, our boy was a hoodie and track pant kind of guy. Thats what we wanted to keep true. We selected a few cherished things for him to have in the casket as well. A dinky car for his pocket to fidget with and Figgy, our family Elf on the shelf to keep him company. I’ll come back to that later. We placed other favourite things around the room. We got to see him alone for a bit. The first thing I noticed was his hairdo. I told the funeral attendant that Ryan would not be pleased, it was poofy and hair sprayed. Ry would have laughed but I get it, they do their best. He also looked bigger than he was, his face was a bit distorted from the fall and trauma. But that was my boy, so peaceful. I touched him, his hands, I spoke to him, I cried, I just kept staring. His beautiful eyelashes. I had to soak it all in as this was going to be the last time seeing him physically. How did this happen? Why Ryan? Why our family?

Our immediate family and close friends were there, they saw him, had their last words, even our rambunctious puppy was there as Ryan loved Billy so much we could not exclude him from it. We had an open casket and then had Ryan cremated in the days afterwards. This was not a funeral per se with all the rituals. There were no eulogies, no words, no music, no tea and coffee. We were there to say goodbye. We had family from the US and England on FaceTime in the background. I hated that day. It does not sit well with me but I am sure its because of my headspace. I felt like I was just going through the motions.

I think that the other mistake we made was the day we picked. It was the following Friday at around the same time as he had passed away exactly one week earlier. This time of day in these dark seasonal months, has become a trigger for me. A heaviness envelops me that brings out sadness, panic and the details of the nightmare that was that day. I can feel the dampness, see the wet ground, the smell in the air, the ominous feeling of dark coming. Fridays in general are now a day of dread because it seems like we constantly run into some type of trigger, Ryan died on a Friday, funeral day was a Friday, we picked up his ashes on Friday one week after, its like a bad movie.

16 days after Ryan died, it was to be his 12th birthday. Another day of dread and sadness coming but we knew we wanted to commemorate Ryan in a way that was up lifting. Funeral day was a formality. This had to be something, well GREAT. A memorial. A true memory for all those there.

Erik took the lead here too. We ordered a big photo of Ryan along with memorial cards, and set up a memory spot on the front steps of the house, a place where Ryan would sit and film cool cars. We set up his favourite things that showed who Ryan was. Bike, scooter, skateboard, keepsakes. We put up a huge Happy birthday banner. We ordered vigil candles to hand out. We hired a bag piper as my husbands family are Scottish and this is very close to him. And we organized suped up cars to come by for a drive by rev and salute to Ryan. But we are in a pandemic so how do you execute all of this? It was thankfully a mild day. We didn’t tell a lot of people what we were doing but we figured if it was outside for 2 hours, with the help of friends marshalling foot traffic, distancing, masks, and such, we felt good about what was going to happen. And truth be told, I didn’t really fucking care. Selfish? maybe. This is my sons birthday and celebration of life. Asking us to ‘wait’ was not an option. We had about 150 people come out, we have vast expanse of sidewalk, 2 sides of major road, a side street and tons of boulevard space. No one came in our house, we even limited people coming onto our property. But nothing happened. If you were one of the people who came to this, then you know that this day was nothing but love, togetherness, support for us and we all know that Ryan would have been elated with all the attention. When the cars revved and drove by, my heart shook, the tears caught my throat, my emotions took over and I know my son was there watching down on it all. It was a perfect day. The send off we had wanted.

Back to Figgy the elf. Why him? Well, Ryan was a solid believer in all things Christmas. He was almost 12 and still firmly believed in Santa and Elf on the shelf. I tried to convince him that Figgy had died in the pandemic this year and wasn’t coming to our house. He quickly retorted that elves dont die and Santa keeps everything alive in the North pole. He wasn’t having it. Figgy had become quite the star at Christmas with elaborate evening shenanigans to wake up to each morning. I didn’t really mind, I loved that Ryan still had the spirit and why are we in a rush to grow up so fast? Figgy was family and meant a lot to Ryan, I couldn’t think of anything better to put with him as I know both of their spirits together were so appropriate.

And now we are on the countdown to Christmas Day. Can this year please just be over? If Ryan’s love for the elf is any example of his spirit then Christmas Day was just as special and his most favourite day of the year. My older son too. They would sleep together on Christmas Eve so they could wake at the crack of dawn, rip open their stockings in bed and then come to get us to open the whole lot under the tree. It was special for them both. The night that Ryan died, when it was finally quiet, I was avoiding going to bed. I sat in Ryan’s room on his bed. My older son came in and sat with me for awhile. His quiet voice asked me “What are we going to do about Ryan’s birthday? What about Christmas?” Knowing how special these days are for them both, I know it now brings a feeling of sadness. I couldn't really answer him. I had declared later that we were not putting up any decorations, not exchanging gifts, not this year. But we have another child. Normalcy is important. I asked Erik what he wanted to do and he said “what Ryan would want” so the tree is up as are the outside lights. My Mum put all of her decorations up, I think it makes us feel a sense of joy. Happiness for Ryan. The sadness is that he will not be here. Him and Figgy are watching the Northern lights and helping Santa to get ready for the big day. So many rituals in the last 5 weeks. The hardest time of year for many is looming upon us. We are now included in that group of souls who will find this to be a 'difficult time of year'. I am choosing to look at it Ryan's favourite day.