Funeral: Remembering Charlie and Braden Powell (Video)

My day started out with tears running down my face as I remembered, "I'm going to the funeral for Charlie and Braden Powell." I struggled, "Maybe I should just skip it....no you need to go...," I thought to myself. But I would only be stalling the inevitable if I did not attend.

I recalled how last year I nearly had a nervous breakdown from writing so much about Japan, surely I did not want to suffer that emotional ride again. My husband couldn't say anything right because I was grieving about the Japanese people and was very touchy....the only problem was, I didn't recognize it until I lost it while watching a movie that simulated a tsunami with hundreds being swept away. I quit writing about Japan.

After writing several articles, digging, and researching the whole Cox-Powell story and playing the scenes over in my head, so I could write in a way that was sensitive but truthful about what really happened last Sunday, I started crying and haven't stopped, since.

My husband has hugged me many times as he's been down this road before, and even reprimanded me for getting too emotionally hooked in again. I answered back, "I can't help it, this is the way God made me."

So, I knew I needed to go to the service for 7-year-old Charlie and 5-year-old Braden. I posted on Facebook that I was to attend and many friends offered support, encouragement and prayers. It was beautiful, very comforting, and so needed. I drove into the parking lot of the church a full hour before it was to start and had to drive around to find a parking spot.

Media, bikers and community members checkered the parking lot and front entrance. I entered and found a place to sit close to the aisle next to a sweet woman who smiled and shook her head "no" when I asked if it was taken. Another lady took the final spot next to me, she almost immediately started making conversation.

Soon I knew who both the ladies were on each side of me. One was a Department of Social and Health (DSHS) case worker who was on the team who handled the case of the two angels and the other was an employee who worked at Good Samaritan hospital. Life is ironic. There I was attending a memorial service completely broken and emotionally limping in and ended up being flanked by a hospital employee and a social worker. God is hilarious. I was truly in good hands!

I started off taking notes but stopped and instead told myself to "be present, relationships are more important than the story." I'm so glad I listened to that still small voice, because I needed to interact with those two beautiful women. Us women need to talk these things through, debrief, download how it has affected us. So we did.

It was a very moving service with a group of extremely talented children starting it off singing "Amazing Grace, My Chains are Gone."

Tears turned to laughter when Charlie's kindergarten teacher shared little stories about how smart and full of information about bugs he was, and how he could talk for long periods about all the details. She shared how his first grade teacher was trying to explain something in class one day and a classmate stated, "Why don't you let Charlie tell the story -- he's a scientist."

Braden's turn was next. A couple of ladies from his YMCA summer camp talked about how funny, full of energy he was, and how he loved trains. He could build the tracks all the way to the hall with several trains riding the rails at once. When they played "Red Light, Green Light," Braden would often fall on the ground when he was running ahead and, jump back up and say, "I'm alright!" It was adorable as she couldn't help but giggle while reminiscing his antics.

One thing really stuck out to me -- the service was in an evangelical church mixed with the Cox-Powell Mormons, those from the Church of Latter Day Saints. The gentlemen who spoke and prayed were from both denominations, but you would never know it as they blended together with one heart and mind. Also, there were many family members who walked in together to sit up front who were from both the Cox and Powell family -- but you would never know it as they all seemed united as one for the boys. I wish we could always unite like that in our denominations and families...I'm sure God was well-pleased today.

Hot tears stayed in my eyes throughout, but hadn't really rolled down my face, which was convenient since I accidentally left my stack of tissue on the front seat of my car. I am thankful I attended to my emotional needs, because as the pastor said at the end of the service, "This wasn't for Charlie and Braden, we know they are in heaven, this was for us."

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Follow Stephanie Ealy on Twitter: @stephealy