Looking Back

It's another day of "one year ago today". December 5th loomed on the calendar. It will always be the day our family and friends gathered to celebrate and honor Waverly's short, yet full life. 

I threw myself into planning and wanted to be sure each detail was well thought out. We had some extra time since we opted to delay her funeral because of Thanksgiving. Our Anglican church tradition provided us with a beautiful service which we had acquainted ourselves with in the weeks before her death. We selected scriptures which spoke to our spirit. Our dear friend, Adam, was going to play classical guitar and he learned a long list of her favorite songs. Hearing the theme song to "Elmo's World" and "Baby of Mine" on classical guitar was absolutely amazing! I made a slide show of my favorite Wavey pictures and selected flowers to fill the space with color and beauty. Matt spent weeks refining his eulogy, determined to deliver it which he did. That moment is the proudest I have ever been of him. I wrote Wavey a letter, with the help of my talented friend, Laura, who put my jumbled thoughts together in a poetic way. And we had years before asked one of my oldest friends, David, to give the homily. His words were honest, acknowledging our grief and sadness, whilst providing hope.

The moment pictured above was the most special. Nathan, one of our pastors, was giving the commendation. He was with us to give Waverly her first communion only weeks before she passed away and there with us 3 days before she died to perform the Holy Unction (similar to last rites). Our pastors laid their hands on her urn and he prayed, "Receive her into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light."

That moment in and of itself was powerful to me. Looking back after a year of wondering and worrying, fearing the unknown of heaven and hoping for truth, I find comfort in that small yet mighty prayer. My arms ache to hold her. I long for her to rest and be free of pain, to be released from the hold of Sanfilippo. And all I want for her is to be surrounded by love and light.

I haven't discussed my faith often on this blog. Mostly because I am still trying to figure it out. It has ebbed and flowed in my life. Wavey was the catalyst to get me back in a church community and she led us to a beautiful place of love and friendship. I think it was her way of looking out for Matt and I, to make sure we were taken care of and surrounded with support. 

A year ago today Matt and I greeted hundreds of people who came to Waverley's funeral. We were able to thank people who have supported us and hear ways in which Wavey had impacted their lives. We felt loved. And we were filled with pride for our little girl and all she accomplished in 12 years. It was a lovely day.

Thanks to Ellen for taking this picture along with many others. They are treasured.


Laura said…
Matt's eulogy was incredible; yours, with its rich, original, organic themes, was too. Waverly's life, in her suffering and fragility, was a great one, shaming what the world thinks of as powerful and "productive" and "effective." Our whole family was honored to be a small part of the living cloud of witnesses to her, to you all, at her service. Thank you for sharing your reflections with such generosity and courage.
Joanne said…
That moment in Waverly's service was indeed so powerful, Shannon. I will never forget it. As will I never forget Matt's eulogy and your letter. We love you four.

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