Balloons

To plan your own child's funeral is really a sucky experience. Really sucky. Who EVER thinks they will have to plan their child's funeral? Nobody. Never. It's the unimagineable. The unthinkable. It's the thought that would never enter a parent's mind in a million years because it is SO sick and wrong.

But, unfortunately... we had to. We had to plan a funeral for our son who was 17 months and 25 days old. A twin brother. A little brother. A soon to be big brother. A grandson. A nephew. A godson. A friend. He was all of those things. But he was so much more. SO MUCH MORE. He was the absolute perfect child. Best kid in the room. He'd have won any smile contest. He'd have won any wiggle contest. He'd have won any hugging contest with his tight grip. And, he'd have easily won any kissing contest with the cute puckering and smacking of his lips.

I carried him in my womb for 35 week and 5 days. Then, for 17 months and 25 days, we held him, we loved him, we kissed him, we hugged him, we fed him, we watched him grow, we shared him with family and friends, we showed him the world he lived in, we learned his likes and dislikes, we learned what would make him smile, laugh or cry, we learned who could make him giggle the most, who could tickle him best, we learned who he was most attached to - and I'm very happy to report, that was yours truly... mommy!

He taught us all how to wiggle, he knew how to make us laugh, we learned he LOVED balls, loved to play catch, and had an early talent for catching. We learned what foods he liked and disliked, his favorite foods, and tricks to make him eat. We learned that he was the easiest child in the world EXCEPT for when it came to feeding him. We learned about his favorite outside toys, and his love for riding on cars and trucks up and down the neighborhood sidewalks and throughout the house. We learned which TV shows were his favorite. We learned about his love for balloons. We enjoyed watching him and his twin brother openly show affection towards one another, kissing, hugging, and pointing to each other's eyes, ears and noses. We enjoyed watching their numerous little twin battles that would take place throughout the day. We enjoyed watching Matteo's true love for his big sister's attention and love... and how he'd follow her direction just so he could be part of her daily play. And, she loved him right back, always being very motherly to him. And, it was so fun to see the two of them cuddle while watching Diego or Dora on TV. Both Rocco and Gabby had a very special and different bond with little Matteo.

Matteo touched our lives in SO MANY WAYS.

When planning Matt's funeral, I went into overdrive to make sure my child's funeral would be perfect. This would be our last salute to our little guy... a way to honor his memory. We wanted to make sure everyone knew who he was... what we miss about him, how much he was loved, and how much we missed him. I wanted the world to know that he was the best. The greatest. That he could not have been a more perfect child. It would not have been possible.

Thanks to a LOT of help from a LOT of family members and dear friends in so many different capacities... I think Matteo's funeral was probably as near-perfect as such an event can be. We were joined by family and friends from near and far. We are still in complete awe of EVERYONE who dropped everything to travel here and be with us. Having their love and support meant the world to us. Thank you just doesn't seem to be enough sometimes.

At the end of the funeral, there was a balloon release. Matteo loved being outside, he loved birds, he loved rocks, he loved bugs, he loved water, and he LOVED balloons. Two very dear friends of mine took on the huge task of coordinating and planning the balloon release. I was again in complete awe of their help and generousity. They got the most perfect balloons and spent the morning blowing them up with helium.

The balloons were all printed with:
Matteo
Tate
Martino
January 10, 2008 - July 5, 2009

It was such a beautiful way to end the funeral. We all watched the balloons hover and take their time flying into the sky. They took their time and did their own thing, just as Matteo always did.

The kids LOVED the balloon release. We told them we were sending the balloons up to angel Matt in Heaven.

As a large group of balloons was hovering above us, a big flock of blue herons (large, white, stork-like birds with black-lined wings) flew through the balloons in the shape of an "M". It gave us goosebumps. Matteo LOVED birds. Was it a sign? OF COURSE it was.

I think little Matt WAS able to see all of these colorful balloons. I think he helped them to hover over us for a while. I think he sent the blue heron's flying through in the shape of an "M" to let us know he was with us. That he is ok. And, I think he was able to see/feel/know how many people were there to celebrate him. And, all I can do is hope he knows that we're constantly thinking of him... missing him... and loving him.

Ever since Matt's funeral, Rocco seems to be on a mission to release every balloon he can get his hands on into the sky. It's almost as if he has a plan to send every balloon he touches to his angel brother in the sky. Truly. I'm not kidding - the kid is determinded to release every balloon into the sky.

On Sunday, August 16th, the mass intentions at our church were for Matteo so we of course went. Rocco was in church with us for approximately 5 minutes and then he was out the door with Dan. Dan said he ran over to the grassy area where we did the balloon release... and he looked up into the sky and kept saying "boon". That's how he says balloon. It made tears well up in my eyes. Six weeks after Matteo died. Five weeks and one day after Matt's funeral. And, my now 19 month old baby remembers this event.

Perhaps there IS hope that he will retain memories of him and his twin. What a gift that would be... truly.

Included with this blog are photos from the balloon release after Matteo's funeral.