A Visit to the Cemetery

I went to the cemetery a few weeks ago. I really don’t go very often, but when I do it is fun to see how others have decorated graves according to the season. However, it’s hard to keep Natalie from playing with the toys left at graves in the infant section of the cemetery. I was alone this time, fortunately, so I didn’t have to worry about chasing her around and trying to remember which toys she picked up from which graves.

I smiled to see all the festive Christmas decorations, from newly fashioned snowmen to fully decorated trees, in addition to wreaths and plastic flowers. With the snow, I wondered if I would be able to find Merideth’s grave marker—we don’t have a headstone yet, so it is just the plastic marker from the funeral home. My attention was caught by a sweet Christmas tree for one of her neighbors. While I was admiring the tree, I noticed that someone had put a candy cane and ornament on Merideth’s grave marker, too. It made me cry. I am pretty sure it wasn’t from anyone I know, but this simple gesture touched me that someone noticed Merideth and cared about us.

I also noticed new headstones placed for babies who had passed away around the same time as Merideth, and I cried to see even newer graves from the last time I had been there. I wondered about those families and feel for those whose situation may have been more tragic or unexpected than ours. And I cried to see family graves with more than one name—perhaps premature twins or perhaps more than one stillborn within a year. I can’t imagine going through the heartache of losing more than one child, and my heart goes out to those parents.

I have debated back and forth whether to share this experience because I don’t want to depress those who are reading, but I also feel it is important to share emotions—to acknowledge them to others and remind myself that grief is still there. For all the tears before Merideth was born, I have cried infrequently since. Sometimes I wonder if that is normal, but I have been reminded by others who have experienced loss that “normal” is what is normal for you. Normal for me (at the moment) is having Merideth in my thoughts every day but not needing to cry that she is not with us right now.

My purpose in going to the cemetery was actually business, not to seek a quiet place of contemplation. First, I was on an errand for a friend to take down Christmas decorations on a family grave while she is out of town. Secondly, I came to look at headstones. Aaron has said all along that whatever I want to get is fine with him. I am excited that the monument company will is willing to customize whatever we want, but being the indecisive person that I am, so many possibilities but have also left me immobile. Sorry to be facetious, but this truly is a matter that is “set in stone,” and I wanted to be sure that I have given it enough thought that I would be satisfied with whatever I decided. I guess I was waiting to see if I had any grand inspiration. Then life got busy in the fall, and in my mind I kept thinking that there would be snow soon, so there was no need to rush on a decision. If I had known November would be mild enough that we could have set the grave before it snowed, I might have tried a little harder to make a decision.

I already had an idea for a design and what I wanted to say, but looking at the headstones on this visit to the cemetery helped me decide the size and style of what I wanted. In the back of my mind I had a goal to order the headstone by the end of the year. When I mentioned that to a friend, Aaron scoffed that I would be able to make it. That was enough challenge to follow through, so December 30 we had the design drawn up an ordered. It will be a while before it is finished and the ground is thawed before we can set it, but it really feels good to have that taken care of. I guess I just needed a deadline to get motivated.