She's So Close... but yet, So Far Away
Yesterday, I went to be with my Mother. I had not been to her cemetary since the day we buried my Grandmother... right beside her, just a little over a week after Mother died. It is so pretty there. It's out in the country. It's quiet. Cows graze in a beautiful pasture across the rural road. It is where my Mother grew up... near the things of her childhood... her family, her school, her church. We took her "home" in a sense. She lays next to her parents. I know my Mother isn't there. But her body is. Underneath that red Georgia clay is my Mother. In the pretty pink jacket she picked out, given by a friend to fit her shrinking frame. Gently folded are the hands that I held. Closed, the eyes that watched my children enter this world. Cold is the cheek that I rested my own upon in those last days when it was too painful for us to hug her. The ears that heard a gazillion of my problems hear no more. Silent, the mouth that always said "Hey, Aim" when she left a message on my voice mail. The arms that were the first to ever hold me are motionless. The ribs that were broken in a car accident 30 years ago no longer expand with breathing. The legs that rocked her babies are resting. The feet that walked around the kitchen and cooked my supper are still. They are there. And while she is gone... parts of her remain. Precious parts. Parts that will be raised and glorified and perfected. Parts of hope and anticipation. I loved being there. I loved seeing her name. But hated it at the same time as it served as a proverbial "nail in the coffin" that she is gone. I am glad my friend Kim went with me because I am afraid I may have not left before nightfall. Walking away was hard. I cannot wait to go back again.
I think it's beautiful.
My sister chose the first flowers for her headplate and I brought a small bouquet from her yard to lay next to her name.
My Daddy had her favorite saying put on the plaque.
Me smiling & happy with a broken heart.
The body that rests beneath me is not longer sick, but healed.