Cemetery Reflections

A SENSE OF PEACE

I didn't make it out to my husband's grave last year or even the year before. A few weeks ago, I finally decided it was time to take the long trip to the cemetery. My navigation system, Garmin Girl, got me there without any wrong turns unlike so many of my other trips since my husband died in 2000. Arriving at the cemetery, I parked the car in the general vicinity of John's grave. Then with my box of tools in my arms, I trudged up the path passing graves grown over with weeds, reminders of loved ones forgotten. The sun beat down on my back as I unloaded my shears and knife and said "hello" to John. I decided to edge his parents' stone first. The knife slipped easily into the moist ground as I sliced away the overgrown grass and brushed off the dried mud from the marble surface.

When I finished his parents' stones, I moved onto his brother's and his aunt's. Then I sat down in front of John's and mine. As always it seemed strange to see my name on the stone with my birthdate followed by a dash and a blank waiting for the day my life ends. I hoped it would be a long time before that blank was filled with a date. I remember the day John's mother and brother sat with me in the drab old cemetery office picking out the stone, I never thought I'd remarry. So the "Together Forever" on the double marble stone made sense. Now fourteen years later and remarried,  I'm not sure the double stone makes sense. Over the years, I realized when you're deep in grief life doesn't make sense. You just make decisions the best you can and try to keep going.

When I finished edging our stone, I gently swept it off and sat on the grass on John's grave. In the intense July heat, sweat poured down my neck and cheeks as I told John I still missed him and always will. I assured him I was fine, thanked him for all the wonderful years we shared and wished we had been given more. After saying a short prayer, I packed up the tools and climbed in the car. As I drove home, there were no tears streaming down my face. Instead I was filled with a sense of peace and acceptance. I thanked God for pulling me up out of the depths of grief and moving me forward.

Moving through the devastating loss of my loving husband was not easy. It took energy, daily work, support from others and the gift of time. In 2011, I published my memoir, Twenty-Eight Snow Angels A Widow's Story of Love, Loss and Renewal.

"A deeply moving account of a journey through grief that provides comfort and hope." Melissa

Order a copy in paperback or e-book at  http://www.amazon.com/Twenty-Eight-Snow-Angels-Widows-Renewal/dp/1432777041