saying goodbye

Tonight we named and said a formal goodbye to our eighth child - Jani Veli. The name somehow seemed appropriate for two reasons. 1) The family chose it and 2) Jani (Finnish for John) means God is gracious/God's gracious gift and Veli means brother. I should tell you though, that the name choice came only after the boys had exhausted all opportunities to name their brother after their favorite Nascar drivers - Dale, Tony and Jeff. Hubby voted for Kyle, but none of the boys would go along with that. (Unfortunate, as Kyle is the only name among them that has a true Finnish translation.) In the end the baby of the family was pretty emphatic in his choice, convincing Mom and Dad to go with Jani.

When I told the boys what we were going to do, #2 told me softly, "This is a sad day."

I made a small cardboard coffin for his one-inch body and had the boys write their names on each side, along with "God is gracious" and "We love you." We choose his grave site underneath the two clematis plants in the flower garden that were planted last spring in memory of his brother, Leevi. I guess now I know why I bought two.

Hubby took the boys outside to find some rocks for the grave and while they were outside, #2 asked him, "How do we know the baby didn't go to hell?" Got to like those teaching moments. He told him that we don't have to worry at all about that - all babies go right to heaven. "Good!" was the response he got, as if to emphasize his relief.

We dug a small hole underneath the ladder-cum-trellis and I placed the tiny box gently inside. Boy #3 blurted, "Won't he die if you put dirt on him?" That got the tears started for me. "He's already dead honey." The boys placed rocks over the filled hole and the oldest lit a candle for our mini-burial ceremony. Mini because it was past bedtime and because it was cold out.


The boys quickly realized I was crying, but I think most of them were slightly puzzled about why. I asked them for a hug and they were obliging, each taking his turn to hug mom - the youngest looking straight into my face very sweetly. We left the candle burning on top of the rocks and came inside. The rest of the evening, during snack time, I was bombarded with questions:

"Why were you crying, Mom?" Because I'm sad.
"Why are you sad?" Because the baby died.
"Why did the baby die?" I don't know honey.

All questions I've asked myself many times in the past month.

It felt right to include the boys in a little ceremony, especially since they were very curious to see the baby earlier (although it was a bit disappointing for some of them when they realized just how small their brother's body was.) It also felt right to mark the spot with four stones and light a candle. I suspect that I may come back to that place often to commemorate the other losses we've had.

Goodbyes are so hard. Even knowing that I will see this child again someday, I am not quite okay with the idea that he is with God and not me. I am still hurting and sometimes don't even want to be comforted or worse, know how to be comforted, even though I need it so much. I am trying very hard to believe that indeed God is gracious as my son's name proclaims, but right now my head and my heart are not in agreement about that.

So, instead, I'll just say good bye, my sweet little boy. I wish I could have held you longer. I hope that our Saviour can pass my love along to you until I can hold you in my arms and tell you myself. Näkemiin minun poika - minä rakastan sinua.