Ask and you shall receive . . .

I had to go to a funeral yesterday . . . the funeral of a young man, 22 years old. He was shot and killed in a drive by shooting.

I didn't know him . . . but I know so many people who did know him. My Extras . . . and we all know that there is nothing I wouldn't do for my extras.

I have to say, I did NOT want to go. I hadn't had to go to a "Sad thing" since Thomas died. And as I'm not feeling the strongest, I really didn't want to go . . . I thought I would get in there and start crying, and never be able to stop. You know, those tears that start off as one thing and turn in to tears for everything in the world that has ever upset you . . . that's what I thought I would have.

One of "my ladies" ~ Jill in Chicago said~ You know it's okay to have a melt down. It's okay to really cry and cry hard at this funeral. It's sad. You are sad. My counselor told me that there is this fear that if you start to cry you will never stop. She said to think of crying like any other function. When you go to the bathroom you don't think, "I'll sit here and pee and pee and never stop. You will stop." You might cry. You might cry until your stomach hurts. Please think of all of us with our arms around you!!!

I teared up and also giggled when I read it! I love my ladies! Good golly, these women are amazing, and can cheer me up when I'm at my bluest!

I thought of all "My ladies" and the strength and prayers they give me and send me. Wow! I'm a lucky girl.

I was weepy in the store . . . I didn't want to go.

I was weepy when the "extras" came though . . . I didn't want to go.

I was weepy when I made the flowers for the funeral. . . I didn't want to go.

But my extras were counting on me. I would be the only "mom" there . . . and my bio children would not be able to attend, so I was going to be going with just my extras . . .

I got in the car to go . . . Weepy . . .

And then out loud I said "Dammit Thomas! I don't want to go! I want you to go with me." When I pray, I pray to God, but I wasn't really praying, (typically I don't cus at God, ~ Well . . . When Thomas Died I did, but people tell me that in situations like that, God is used to it.) I wanted to talk to MY boy . . . I wanted to have a conversation with him. I wanted him to help me . . . to be with me . . . to know that even though this wasn't "his" funeral, that I carry him with me in all I do and that I cry and I hurt and I ache, and I want to make him Rice-a-roni, and buy him Slurpees. I want him to know that my life is forever changed because of him.

I don't know if you will think I'm nuts (you probably already do) but I have wanted to "Feel" Thomas here . . . like a ghost or a spirit, I wanted to feel his presence, I wanted to feel him close to me . . . and since he has passed I haven't felt him . . . not at all . . . I have ached to feel him. But then . . . I know in my heart of hearts I did everything I needed to for Thomas, I was ALWAYS there for him. I have no regrets as far as Thomas is concerned (Except for the fact that he is gone) But Thomas' family I'm sure is aching and questioning . . . I'm sure that Thomas has been with them . . . that they need his support . . . and Thomas knows/knew that I had Tim and my boys and friends, and "My Ladies" (Who were always so good to Thomas) and all my other extras . . . Thomas knew I would be fine . . . eventually.

Thomas also knew that if I really needed him I would let him know . . . "Dammit Thomas . . . ."

I "Talked" aloud to Thomas in my car as I drove toward the funeral . . . Saying that I needed him, I needed his support, that I knew he has had to be with his bio family, but this is one of those times where I really needed him. That I didn't think I could do this without his help and his strength.

And as I drove . . . I felt this warmth . . . This peace . . . This love come over me. (Ok you can think I'm crazy, but it happened.) I FELT THOMAS! He was with me.

I felt strong!

My tear dried up.

I smiled.

I talked with Thomas all the way to the funeral (No, he didn't talk back, I'm not THAT crazy) but I did feel this peace . . . this love . . .

I got to the funeral and I saw my extras . . . Josh was supposed to be a pallbearer and he fell off his motorcycle and broke himself really bad (he had to fight with the hospital to let him out to come to the funeral), he is one of mine. And he needed me there.

Scotty, was going to speak a the funeral, and he needed me there. (my Scotty is the one with the microphone)

I sat between Johnathan and Chris and they cried through the whole thing . . . they needed me there.

I stood at the casket holding hands with Brooke, she needed me there.

And I was strong . . . I didn't weep . . . I held my kids! I loved my kids and was strong. I felt Thomas sitting with me.

At the end of the service the pastor said this~

"Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there

I do not sleep

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamonds gift of snow

I am the sunlight on the ripened grain

I am the autumns gentle rain

When you awaken in the mornings hush

I am the swift up lifting rush-

Of quiet birds in circled flight

I am the soft stars that shine at night

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there

I did not die."

This is the poem that came on the card from Thomas' bio mom and dad and the service they had for him. Jaqui read it at the service we had for him. When the pastor read it yesterday, and I'm sitting there "Feeling Thomas" I knew that my prayers had been answered.

I got back to the shop, and mom and Jaqui asked me how it went, they were worried I would go and have a melt down. But I told them that I was fine . . . that Thomas went with me, and I was fine.

Thomas stayed with me till about 8:30 last night, as I am making flowers for Mothers day, I'm happy . . . my boy is with me . . . but then he let me know he had to go (I can't even describe for you how he let me know, but he did.) I told him I didn't want him to go . . . and then I smiled because I got exactly what I had asked for . . . I asked Thomas to go with me to the funeral . . . and I even got him a little longer than that. I knew/know he couldn't stay.

It felt so good.

I don't know, maybe I'm crazy . . . maybe it didn't really happen. Maybe it was all a figment of my imagination . . . or maybe a miracle happened and my boy came to the funeral with me because I needed him to . . . Maybe on this special day . . . God listened to what I really needed, and granted my prayers.

I don't feel Thomas today . . . I'm back to being my ol' weepy self . . . but for a few hours yesterday I was strong . . . I was happy and I felt the love of my sweet boy.