Craig is a co-worker of mine, his daughter Addyson born just three days before Isaac. The proximity of time and vocation connected the two births, and had connected the two pregnancies, beginning in November when we first found out.
I went to Addyson’s funeral today. She was nine days old.
The proximity of the two births made her passing so jarring. So close. It’s clouded my thoughts since it happened, my mind imagining what I’d do if it was ours, my heart bruised from questioning why it had to happen to someone so cool. So genuinely caring. To someone who, despite my knowing only on a work level, had quickly become a friend.
Let’s be honest. There’s nothing more heartbreaking than the funeral of a baby; the white casket wheeled in, padded and adorned with teddy bears, small enough to leave nothing to the imagination. There is no doubt that we’re all there to mourn the death of a child. There is no question that it’s going to be hard.
Through the beveled walls and wooden pews, a wave of sadness quieted the room. Nothing – nothing at all, not a single word – can comfort a parent during this. There is only time. And as time hadn’t made its way into their lives, we could only sit. And hope.
Because so few in attendance knew Addyson on a personal level, I suspect we were all thinking the same things. About how horrible it must be to be in that position – to say goodbye to your own daughter, to attend the funeral of a person you had nurtured and raised through the womb, finally to meet her, only to see her taken away before you ever got the chance to know her.
And we were all thinking about what we’d do in that position. During a video of Addyson’s short life, I had to bury my eyes, squeezing back emotion. During a congregation-wide singing of “Jesus Loves Me,” I had to stay silent. I might have been as torn up as the family – not because I was close to Addyson, but because I’m so close to my own children. Because I don’t know what I’d do if they were taken away.
Do we feel worse about the death of a child because of the life we knew? Or because of what we never had the chance to know? When we ache over a young life lost, is it because of what we had discovered – the love we had found while they were still alive – or because of the potential love we could have shared?
It’s the innocence of parenthood – and the innocence of a newborn – that makes everything so difficult. No one believes their child will be taken – after all, in a karmic world, a newborn hasn’t had a chance to learn right from wrong, their innocence shielding them from judgment.
There are times I feel guilty. Though there’s no correlation, I can’t help but feel guilty. Isaac and Addyson were connected, though only through chance. Isaac survived. Addyson didn’t.
But that’s not fair – to us or to Addyson’s family. It’s not about who’s left, but who’s gone – it’s about losing a love before it could even be stoked, finding a soul mate only to have him or her taken. It’s about knowing what could have been – to be within reaching distance – and seeing it disappear.
So I sat, quietly, a whirlwind of feelings – concern, empathy, sorrow. Staring at the ceiling, fighting to keep it together, one person put everything in perspective. Kaiden, Addyson’s brother, a little boy who barely understands the magnitude of the event, looks up at his crying mother and tries to crack a joke. He laughs. I can only imagine a flicker of a smile passed by, a flicker Kaiden picked up on and, loudly, with innocence, asked his mother if things had passed.
“Are you better now?”
Probably not, Kaiden. Especially not now.
But who knows? In time, all of this will pass. Until then, though, it will weigh on our hearts – yes, even ours, those who only witnessed a fit of love so strong it filled the funeral home with emotion despite our distance – and it will continue to remind us of what we have in life.
To never take things for granted. To cherish each hug. Now, and until the end, whenever that is. So that if we’re ever put into this position, we can say with confidence that we’re crying for everything. The past and the future. Each day of a child’s life, and each day yet to come.
Feeling pain for both for what we had and the potential of what could have been. And lamenting the loss of innocence.
Beautifully written, Corey. The only thing you can do for someone who has lost a loved one is to sit with them in their grief and cry with them. The words “It will be all right” will never do for someone who is grieving–because it won’t be “all right” for a very long time, if ever. Those left behind have had their lives changed forever. Forever.
Corey,
I just wanted to say thank you! I am Tasha’s brother and Craig asked me to read this on Sunday morning. It brought tears to my eyes again just as the many I had shed the days since her death. I am not good at putting words to paper as well as you did, but I have a lot of emotions and questions running through my head as everyone else does…Why? Why would our God need Addyson so soon? The only explanation I can come up with is God needed a beautiful angel to sit by his side and watch over us as he had lost his.
I believe God has a plan for all of us and his plan for Addyson was to bless us with her sweetness and then call her home a short 9 days later. I can’t wait to see her again someday!
I have twin boys that are just about 16 months old, so this really clubbed me hard. An innocent child’s life is so precious so we all need to re-learn not to take advantage of it. Stop and smell a flower with them. Throw a rock with them. Eat a piece of dirt with them…well maybe not. Watch a bird fly through the air and wonder as they do…How does that bird do that?
God bless you Corey!
We will all miss our precious Addy!
Corey:
What beautiful and comforting words you have written. My name is Jack Steele and I am Addyson’s grandfather, Tasha”s father. Your perception and description of Addyson’s short life and the funeral service and the emotion that everyone that was there felt and displayed was so helpful and gratifying to us as a family. Everyone seemed to be hurting and cared so much. Addyson has been gone now for a week and a day, almost as long as she lived. I think of her, multiple times every day and every time I do, it just doesn’t seem to get any easier. I shed tears daily. I am but the grandfather. But I fell in love with that little baby girl the minute I learned of her birth.
Now let me tell you briefly about something that happened in my life. Over 30 years ago, my wife Donna and I also lost a daughter. She was seven years old at the time of her death. She died of a rare form of cancer after battling courageiosly to beat it for two years. So I know what Tasha and Craig are experiencing and going through. But it just breaks my heart to watch them suffering so much and knowing that there really isn’t anything I can say or do for them to make their grief go away. However, I have told them, that someday, maybe tomorrow, maybe a year from now or maybe ten years from now, they will discover the answer as to why God took Addyson home to his side so quickly after her life began. It took me about two years to discover why God took our daughter Chanda at such a young age. The answer to that question, in my life, was Tasha. The day she was born and became a part of our lives, answered the question of why, for me. Tasha was that answer.
So Corey, thanks again for what you have written and what you have said and for providing a response section to your “On the Loss of Innocence”. Your words were special and encouraging words and have helped me remember and understand what has happened in our lives in the past two weeks and three days.
With best regards,
Jack
Corey,
I’m Colleen Steele Yunker…..Jack Steele’s sister, Tasha’s aunt, and Addyson’s great aunt. I live in Indiana, so all I saw were pictures of Addyson with her Steele grandparents, her Dad, Craig, her brother, Kaiden, and her Mother, Tasha. All I can do is cry. She was so beautiful and looked so perfect and healthy. I just can,t understand why this happened. I relived the death of my niece, Chanda, some 30 years ago, and the pain was just as great as it was then. When I told my daughter, Sabra, about it, she, too, was shattered. She and Chanda were only 11 months apart. Preston was her only cousin then until Tasha came along. And oh what a delightful girl Tasha is. One thing I told Sabra, I think, was that Donna’s parents, Jack’s and my parents, and Chanda were in heaven and that they would take good care of Addyson until we all join them. All I wish is that I could make it all better, but I know I have to accept the fact that I can’t. I pray for healing of everyone over a matter of a long time. Your writing was beautiful. Thank you so much!
Corey: I am Craig’s mother, and have attempted to make my comments on your site since last weekend, only to be stopped each time by the extreme sadness in my heart. Addyson was only with us for 9 short days, but has made a lasting impression in our heart that will remain with us forever. They say that losing a child is one of the most difficult things a parent would ever have to go through. The second, I know, is having to stand by and watch your child lose a child. I have felt some of the worst pain I have ever felt since that dreaded moment on June 23rd. Craig and Tasha are such a great couple, and great parents. They should never have had to experience this hurt and pain. Bruce, I and Craig’s brother Mark, as well as Tasha’s parents Jack and Donna, and her brother Preston, Becky and the boys will do everything in our power to help Craig, Tasha and Kaiden get through this. We love them with all of our hearts, and thank you so much for the wonderful tribute that you gave our precious baby Addyson. Faye Lee
Corey,
This seems to be the place to go to get to the heart of what is on everyone’s minds at this sad confusing time. I am Craig’s father Bruce and I too want to thank you for the way that you put into words the joy and eventually the pain you witnessed the family and friends going through after Addyson’s untimely death and also the feelings you had in your own heart.
I am person that likes to be in control of my fate and everyone that knows me knows that I like to fix things. As of Tuesday the 23rd of June at about 11:45 AM when I walked into the Trauma 5 center at the Sanford Hospital and was led down the hall to the room where Tasha, Craig, Faye, Donna, and the now lifeless baby Addyson were gathered I experienced a feeling that I despised especially at that moment in time, I was helpless to fix anything there. There was nothing I could do or say to take away the excruciating emotional pain that we all were dealing with because even with all of the modern medical equipment and the doctor’s skills nobody could breathe life back into that beautiful little granddaughter of mine.
Over the past three and a half years I have watched Kaiden growing up and the older he gets the more fun I have with him and I was looking forward to having that fun all over again with Addyson. I have never been much for holding infants; to me it is like handling someone’s fine, priceless china. I like to wait until they grow up a little so that they aren’t quite so vulnerable to my clumsiness and for that reason I never held Addyson as much as I could have. I had all kinds of time or so I thought. In the future I will be just a little more selfish and hold the little ones a little closer a little longer.
Addyson will always live on in our hearts and I know there will be times when we see young people experiencing life that we will wonder what she would have been like. I for one know that she would have had my heart in the palm of her hand much like she does right now and I would have cherished every time she wanted my attention and yelled “Papa”.
I want to thank you Corey and all of the other folks that have responded to the story “On the Loss of Innocence”. I believe that this interaction will help all of us in the healing process; I especially hope it helps Tasha, Craig, and Kaiden in their healing process as they are experiencing the biggest loss, the loss of a child and sibling.
I do believe that our little Addyson is truly an angel now.
Bruce
Corey,
Your words took me right back to that Saturday the 27th. Right back to the funeral home and put the tears right back into my eyes.
I got a few calls as well as some pretty excited texts 9 days before Tuesday that said I needed to call Craig, my brother, and in a state brought on by the events of the night before I waited until I was able to form sentences again before I could share in his joy. He told me of his new baby girl and my new niece. He told me of their plans to go see our parents and then take the rest of the day to recover from all the excitement. I had started making plans in my head to come up the later part of July so I could catch a Twins game and see the new addition to our family. Much like my father I thought I had all the time in the world.
Nine days after that Sunday I got the same calls and the same texts, but seeing as Tasha had the baby already I knew something was amiss. The sentence my mother told me chilled me to the bone, her voice ragged from crying she told me that Addyson had passed. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Little Addyson our newest addition to the family was gone. Little Addyson the girl that was welcomed so eagerly by everybody had now been taken. I flew back immediately because of the hurt I knew everyone was going through.
Your message brought me right back to a place I’ll never forget and your message is of one I had learned in high school with the loss of a friend, never take time for granted. You are right about that and it is horrible that we are reminded of that by events like these.
[...] A blog post I wrote about attending the funeral of my friend Craig’s daughter – a newborn who passed away at only nine days old – transformed from an introspective study in loss to a holding ground for the family’s memories. [...]
How beautiful you were able to describe your feelings, it was very moving. Over the years I have learned so much from Tasha & Craig. How to be a better person, how to be better friend. Watching the video of Addy’s short life, I was able to see that not a moment a taken for granted, every second was cherished. We can all learn so much them.
Thank you for sharing.
Sarah
Cory,
Thanks for sharing this message. You have a great way with words that some of us struggle to share. Back in 2005, I experience the same joy of sharing a pregnancy with Tasha and Craig. Tasha and I worked at ACS together and were pregnant at the same time with our first kids. My daughter Lauren is just 4 weeks older than Kaiden and we have had so much fun watching them grow up together. As I am sure you were looking forward to do with your son and Addy. My heart has been breaking for Tasha and Craig since I learned for Addy’s passing and have struggled to put my thoughts together and grasp what I was feeling. I think the message you shared today sums it up for most of us who are parents of small children. Craig is blessed to have a friend like you.
Thanks again for sharing this very moving message!
Emily