Arranging Piotr's funeral, the 30th March 2009

And so on Monday the 30th March 2009, my friend Grzegorz brought me to a funeral home (undertakers) in Gorlice.

Its appearance was that of a small shop, Grzegorz explained why we were there, I was then pointed to what, for all intents and purposes was a garage attached to the shop. There, stacked from floor to ceiling were coffins, caskets, wrapped in plastic.

I was shocked at the situation, I have been in funeral homes before, as have most people, usually they are quiet, carpeted, warm, but I found myself in a garage, a bleak cold place. It was too much for me as I looked at these tiny coffins. Coffins that to me seemed to be no bigger than  than a pillow that each night we rest out head upon.

The situation was unbearable, surreal, a nightmare. I had to leave. I could not comprehend the fact that my son was dead, and that I had to choose one of these little wooden boxes, in a cold and bleak Garage in Poland, to be the resting place, the final destination for my son Piotr.

No blanket would ever keep Piotr warm, no cradle would be gently rocked as he smiled, no cuddles would let him drift into sleep. I would never hear the sound of my son Piotr's laughter, I would never hear his first words, nor see his first steps. No, I was staring into the abyss of a tiny white coffin, where Piotr would, I hoped, rest forever in Peace and dignity.

I was wrong, as this blog will explain.

Later that same day, Grzegorz brought me to another funeral home. The people there were, as far as I could understand, decent, humane, and understanding. I was treated with dignity and kindness, and I selected a coffin. The arrangements were made for Piotrs' funeral. I offered to pay for everything at that moment. I wasn't sure if I could ever come back to that funeral home, and I certainly could not do alone, as I speak no Polish. However, they funeral home said it was better I pay after the funeral was over.

All that was left for me to do now, was to buy my son Piotr a hat, and some clothes. The only clothes I would ever buy for my beautiful son. I will explain why I had to but Piotr a hat, but that explanation will be contained in my posting about the 31st march 2009.

There is no description, no words to describe how that feels as a Father. Ticking off a list of things to do, before burying my infant son.