Flowers for Mom

Today was kind of a hard day. Some days, I'm finding, are just like that. Because grief is a funny thing. Sometimes you feel fine, and other times grief comes and delivers a blow that takes your breath away. Today started out heavy. I'm not sure why in particular, but I think it might have had something to do with the fact that my dad and Aunt Lindell and I were going to go back to my mom's grave for the first time since the funeral. We wanted to place some flowers on it and reflect for a moment. At the last minute, I decided to take my girls along (while Mike stayed home with a sleeping Lucas). I thought they should be a part of the process. And I'm glad they came.

When we arrived in the cemetery, they asked a lot of questions. They wanted to know what the headstones said and if we were walking on dead people (remember, they are only six!). We tried to respect each question and answer each one as best as possible. They also had lots of questions about Heaven and we were able to talk about that as well. After choosing which flowers to place near the gravesite, we sat in the grass and all shared some memories of my mom. The girls talked about how much they loved it when Grandma read books to them. And they brought up how much fun we had at Robbers Cave last summer. I talked about how I would miss cooking with my mom and the blueberry-walnut cake with lemon icing that she made me every year on my birthday. My mom's sister said she would miss planning all the family gatherings together. The two of them always planned out who would cook what; they made each holiday memorable (and delicious!). I teared up several times, but I held it together more than I thought I would. In the end, I'm really glad I went. In fact, the heaviness of the day lifted, as if I could breathe easier again.

Enjoy your flowers, Mom.

I love you.