God, in His mercy, numbed my feelings and emotions for the first few weeks in the shock of my middle son's unexpected death. Outwardly, it looked as if I wasn't grieving. Inwardly, disbelief reverberated. Now that the funeral is over, my emotions are coming to the surface more. But, the time leading up to the funeral was so busy, we hardly had time to think or emote.
We were blessed by countless people who came forward to love and support us in this trial. I kept wishing Trevor could see all the expressions of love and appreciation others felt for him and for us, through him. My friend, Heidi, told me she's convinced he does know. She wrote, "After my mom died, I had a vision/visitation of her sitting next to me and telling me that the pain she went through was gone and that ALL was known - she was SO happy! I believe ALL is now known to Trevor, including the love people have expressed during the last week and the love and support you and family gave during his life." This was such a comforting thought to share!
The day after Trevor's death, our oldest son, Bryce, flew from Dallas to be with us. What a comfort and blessing his presence brought! Somehow, it made the grief more bearable. Plus, he was invaluable to us. He set to work on a photo slideshow to put up on the funeral home's obituary page. He scoured my phone and my computer for images. He must have asked John, as well, because he used an impressive photo of Trevor's bodybuilding physique (some wondered if it was AI).
I'm sure Bryce emphasized photos from his earlier years, happy years before the drug associations and drug use. He was our exuberant little boy, and we have many fond memories of those carefree days. It was a big help and huge blessing to have Bryce handle that important piece. He was also helpful during the necessary meetings. When we met with the funeral director, Bryce took notes. He compiled and sent us a file of things to do (it all would have disappeared from my consciousness quickly). He accompanied us to select and purchase a gravesite (near his grandmother's headstone). He, again, took notes throughout our meeting with the pastor, as we arranged the funeral service songs and order.
God brought me to the wonderful songs that we used for his service. I came across "Approach, My Soul," by John Newton, in the Sing Hymnal I received for Mother's Day. We printed this inside the memory folder passed out to those in attendance. The words emphasize our desperate need of God's salvation and His gift of eternal life: "Bowed down beneath a load of sin, by Satan sorely pressed, by wars without and fears within, I come to Thee for rest... guilty sinners such as I might plead Thy gracious name!"
We used "It is Well," by Horatio Spafford, to signal the start of the service. This hymn was written in great grief after the unexpected deaths of his four daughters in a shipwreck. Crossing the exact site of their drowning, Spafford penned words to affirm his deep trust in God amid inexplicable loss. For the condensed slideshow, we selected Casting Crowns' song, "Scars in Heaven." The lyrics gutted me: "If I had only known the last time would be the last time." "What I'd give for one more day with you." "I know you're in a place where all your wounds have been erased, and knowing yours are healed is healing mine."
"He Will Hold Me Fast" was supposed to play after the family reflections, but it came after the eulogy. I love these lyrics, as well: "When the tempter would prevail, He will hold me fast. I could never keep my hold through life's fearful path, for my love is often cold. He must hold me fast... He'll not let my soul be lost, his promises shall last. Bought by Him at such great cost, He will hold me fast." What a beautiful arrangement by Kristyn and Keith Getty! What a solid proclamation of God's unending grace!
I doubt people really took in the lyrics to the departing song, "Christ is Mine Forevermore." This was another one found in The Sing Hymnal with poignant lyrics: "Mine are days that God has numbered. I was made to walk with Him; yet, I look for worldly treasure and forsake the King of Kings... Christ has paid for every failing, I am His forevermore... Mine are tears in times of sorrow, darkness not yet understood. Through the valley I must travel where I see no earthly good... I know my pain will not be wasted."
My sister-in-law, Miriam, was a great help for the family fellowship prior to the funeral. As I said, I'm not a gifted hostess. I don't easily whip up meals on command, even on a normal day, let alone a stressful one. After Miriam arrived and set out a spread of desserts and drinks, she agreed to look over my outfit choices. We ended up running back to Kohl's to exchange a top for a smaller size (I tend to seek very roomy clothes). I so appreciated her time and attention to these needs.
The time together in our home with family was beneficial and comforting. We talked about old times and memories of Trevor. Thankfully, Bryce and Elizabeth ran to get a large quantity of Chik-fil-A, so meal needs were met and I was able to set out the spread of veggies and snacks I had purchased for the gathering. On one end of our table, all the engineers talked engineering and the other end rehashed stories and spoke of my youngest brother's architectural projects. Many family members did not arrive until late the night before the funeral and my brother Mark's family drove up from Kentucky for the day. We had family come in from many other corners: Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Texas.
Blogger that I am, I wanted photos, but knew I'd be preoccupied and unable. My sister agreed to help. I'm sure it was uncomfortable trying to snap images in a room of grieving guests. She did an outstanding job, as evidenced by the photos accompanying this funeral recap post.
The hardest part was viewing his empty body. Trevor, of course, did not look like Trevor. He was not there. It was a vessel devoid of his spark and spirit. I could not have captured an image of his body. Dawn delicately snapped this shot:
We said our good-byes and let the grief wash over us. I told him, "I wanted more time!" Then, we allowed his girlfriend time to say her good-byes.
Next, came a blur of greeting people who attended the visitation. A member of my BSF group came by briefly to bring flowers and give a hug. Five of our friends drove all the way from Champaign-Urbana, IL. My college best friend, Anne, came all the way from Lombard, IL. I was sad that I only snagged a few moments with her as the press of people kept coming. Both Bryce's and Sean's friends came. Trevor had probably 7 or 8 friends from middle and high school years who came. A few of the girls in that group were kind enough to come express condolences.
Trevor's 2nd grade teacher came up to tell me how sad she was because he had shown such great potential. Many individuals came from Pittsboro Baptist Church. Here are some images of family members who came:
I was blown away by Trevor's halfway house leader, Damien, who took an Uber all the way from Indianapolis to our little rural enclave. He had only known Trevor for less than two weeks (and knowing Trevor, he probably hadn't interacted much). We gave Damien a ride to the burial and learned that he, too, (like my husband) is from Champaign-Urbana.
Thanks to the funeral director's wife, you can view a video of the funeral here. After the condensed slideshow and a welcome, John's sister Martha read John's comments and shared some of her own memories of Trevor. I wasn't sure I'd make it through mine, but the humorous bits helped me stay composed.
The burial was a brief affair (good, since it was 95 degrees out) with prayer and committal.
Then, Pittsboro Baptist Church provided a marvelous meal for family and friends. After the meal, my sister and brother-in-law treated many family members and Damien to ice cream at the local Dairy Bar.
We got Damien into an Uber back to the halfway house and many descended back into our home for further fellowship. I relished time with Trevor's cousins. Now, the grief is truly descending and intensifying.
Some may question my son's walk with God, because he used drugs. One even shared a prayer, "What joy it will be IF we get to heaven and discover Trevor is there.... We pray that Trevor in some way... [had] things straight with You [God] before this terrible occasion." I know my son's spiritual foundation was not built on what he did, but on what Christ did for him. I liken it to my mother's Alzheimer's. She raged and cursed. That was not my mother; it was her diseased brain. Drugs had altered Trevor's brain, rewiring to tell him drugs were his best solution to his pain. He responded physiologically, not spiritually.
Every day, I wake with the realization that my son is no longer with us here on earth. I take comfort, because of his trust in Christ's atoning act on the cross, and believe we will be reunited one day in Heaven. Others may scoff and weep for his lost soul; I claim the atoning cross of Christ and His promise of eternal life. If you have not trusted in Christ, consider the gospel message (proclaimed in Trevor's funeral) and accept the free gift of eternal life. May Trevor, in death, reach more than we had hoped and prayed in life.
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