It has been awhile since I went to visit my mom and Francine at the cemetery. I know that my brother Tim goes weekly and my dad stops over quite frequently. It is only about ten minutes away from my home so I really have no excuse not to go. I rationalize with myself that I am too busy but I really should find the time. I always feel better after going. My kids have asked to go and I have taken them. Other than my grandfather, who passed away when I was a teenager, I never really had to do this before this year so I feel like I don’t even know what I am “supposed” to do when I am there.
They are buried next to each other inside a mausoleum, so usually I just sit on the sofa in front of their vaults . If I have the boys with me, we sometimes wander around and read the surrounding headstones. Sometimes we talk to mom and Francine, hoping that they are somehow listening to us. We tell them how things are going and how much we miss them and wish that they were here to experience it all with us.
Now that her bench is in town, I feel like I have another place that I can go when I need to. I think I prefer that over the cemetery. It is in a place that meant so much to her. A place where I know she was happy, content and proud.
Today, I was reminded of how long it has been since I went to the cemetery when my friend Marta posted a photo on Facebook of her mom holding her daughter in her arms as they visited them at the mausoleum. About a month ago, I wrote about Marta’s mom Linda. She was a wonderful friend of my mom and I know that she misses her tremendously. That picture she posted meant a lot to me and I am grateful for the reminder that it is probably time for me to make another visit.