I went to mom’s gravesite today. It was the first time since her death nearly four years ago. She was 93 when she died, and had lived with my husband and me the last nine months of her life.I wanted her here, more than anything. i brought her here from a home. The happiest times for her were when we could sit outside on my back deck and she could see the huge evergreens that lined my property. They reminded her of a where she and the other children who lived in the orphanage in New York City would go for the summer. The days when the bluest sky would appear were her favorite and she would be so lucid that i would begin to wonder if she was coming back. It’s nearing that time again. I know about ” anniversary dates”. the only therapist that ever really told me anything helpful, told me about them. I believe in them, it just makes sense of things that have no sense. Crying jags that last for a day or two, a depression that lies on one like a heavy wool cloak. An intense desire. to get into bed in a darkened room and pull up the covers. Understanding why is the gift.
It is a simple stone, in one of the National Cemetaries.Mom’s name on one side and my dad who passed in 1972 name is on the other . I felt their spirit’s there.
.At long last a spring day, the temperature was near sixty degrees and there was the bluest sky.
Happy Easter Mom.