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Sunday, Nov. 05, 2006 - 11:35 P.M.
Grandma
Sometimes a girl just needs her grandmother. A hug or one of her double kisses would have been just the thing I needed on a day like today, when noting specific is wrong, just a day when a girl needs her grandmother. Or a cup of tea, she drank tea. But those things aren't possible anymore, they haven't been for over 30 years. And though I swear a day doesn't go by when I don't have at least one thought of her, most days I can keep on going and not feel so empty. On the rare occasions when I can't, I can count on MOTH to join me on the hour ride (plus an additional hour or so to find the right flowers) so I can spend some time closer to her.
I know she isn't THERE, I know that. She hasn't been HERE since before her heart stopped beating...such a strange thing that she had died, but the pacemaker kept her heart beating. Her tea water was just coming to a boil, the kettle was just beginning to sing when she was discovered. Anyway, I go and visit there because it FEELS close to her. Actually, I like cemeteries. I always have. They tell stories.
It's a place where you can get very close to the statues, touch them, look carefully at the detail and wonder about the story. Sometimes, as above, the story is the stone. Other times, like below, the story is ON the stone:
What an amazing display this is, and it caught my eye from the road. I was drawn, called, to it. We think this man has 8 granddaughters. The larger angel, is it sleeping? Crying? Mourning? Hugging? It made me think of how I want my remains handled. I know I want to be cremated. AFTER an open casket wake (unless something grisly happens, like a bear eats my face, that wouldn't be good). I am no fan of being looked at, but I know how it helps me with closure, and after all, wakes and funerals are for the living, not the dead. So, I want my kids and family, maybe even grandchildren if I am so lucky, to have that closure. Then burn me up and go ahead and skimp on the box. What money is saved on the box, I want put into a headstone. Because graveyards are also for the living.
Don't keep me in a mausoleum, I want to be outside. I want my ashes mixed with MOTH'S and I want us interred together, because when the grandkids miss me, like I miss my grandma, I want them to come and see where my memory is tangible. I want them to see my name in a medium that won't be ground smooth from the rain's acid. I don't need a cute saying or anything ornate, but I want my name chiseled deeply so that 100 years from now, my great-greats can come and see my name, and MOTH'S and smile remembering us together. I want them to wipe off the dirt and the leaves and take a picture, leave a flower, write a poem. I want it to be outside so they can breathe freely, sit on the grass, maybe hug the earth, perhaps have lunch or take a nap. Cry, perhaps. And then leave feeling closer.
And if someone wants to jot a note on a piece of ribbon and tie it to a flower that's just what they should do. Sometimes, a girl just needs to leave her grandmother a note....
Grandma...I still miss you every single day....
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