The week began with the burial of Brittny’s baby on Monday. My thought had been, “If we don’t do anything else right for this child, at least we’re going to give him a proper burial.” The burial was at Mt. Elliott cemetery. It began with a little service in a chapel within the cemetery grounds. The funeral home director was very good. He never once said “it” or “fetus.” He was always Baby Jaylen. He compared the birth process, the passage through the tunnel, to the death process, reminding us that all those who have had near-death experiences speak of passing through a tunnel. But at the end of each tunnel, there is light and a whole community of people ready to greet you. So in a sense, he said, Jaylen was born. Brittny’s grandmother, who had fronted the money for the abortion, was there (she had at first refused to come), as was her new boyfriend and a friend of her grandmother. And of course the Guadalupe Partners were there, about ten of us.
Friday there were 2 appointments at AFP, one of whom changed her mind. Saturday I thought it was going to be just two grumpy old men at AFP, just Chris and I, but after an absence of a month Kristine was back on the job. It was good to watch her sidewalk counsel, she has such a soft but intent way about her. Meanwhile, there was a constant, cold rain.
Later in the morning, three mothers came for diapers, and we again had breakfast with Jackie and her boys.
