Visits to our children at the cemetery are always difficult. But during Christmas and the holiday season, these visits are especially difficult. Family members are gathering from far and near, but someone is missing. The child or children we have lost are not joining in family dinners and other festivities. We may look like or pretend we are having a good time, but we do do with a wounded, aching heart.
I find for myself, I am somewhat sad and apprehensive for several days before visiting my son at the cemetery. Then, I go accompanied by my husband. We placed a holiday decorative grave blanket on just the right place in front of the headstone. I pray. I reminisce. I talk to my son and late husband. I tell them how much I miss them and bring them up to date on recent activities and plans for the holidays. I assure them they are not forgotten. I ask them to help me be strong. I tell my son I am so very sorry for what happened to him. That he had met such an evil, manipulative, deceitful young woman who cost him his life. I apologize for not being able, not being strong enough, to go through a trial. To get justice for him. After Dad was gone, I had no one by my side.
I ask if he has made friends in heaven. If he is playing the guitar. Taking music lessons. Even in a band. I tell him I hope he has re-connected with his grandparents and second cousins he met only briefly or not at all. I tell Chris I am glad he is safe. That we currently live in a crazy, dangerous world of many self centered people who cannot be true friends to anyone. I tell him I love him, Dad and our dog, Amber. I tell Chris to take care of Amber. To tell her I will be there someday. Not to tease her. I pray he is safe in heaven. I ask him if able, to help me win the lottery. I am trying to win a new SUV. That night, the Pick 4 number was 1976, Chris' birth year. Coincidence? Will let you know if I win the SUV.
Despite the love, the reassurances, the humor, I remain melancholic for several days. I try to focus on the positive aspects of our "conversation." And his birth year appearing in the lottery. I like to think he heard and, more importantly, understood what I was saying. Felt my everlasting love. How I miss him. How I wonder if he could have made his living in printing, the tech course he just graduated from. If he would have found love. Had kids. Bought his own home. I hope my love came through the sorrow. I know he never meant to hurt me, his Dad and Amber who missed him faithfully until she died seven years later. We all loved Chris and he loved us. That's what matters and what I need to remember most.
"May you rest in God's hands until we meet again." Irish Proverb
I wish everyone a spiritual and peaceful Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanza. May we all be protected in God's loving hands.
Love, peace & strength, Rosemarie
"Praise the Lord, who carries our burdens day after day; He is the God who saves us." Psalm 68: 19
