- I went and took flowers to my Mother’s grave today. I worked on Mother’s Day, so I chose today to take her flowers. I wanted to go when Ben could accompany me. In the past I’ve gotten pretty upset while graveside. So it’s nice to have his strong shoulder to spill my tears upon. I honestly don’t go often. For one, I don’t feel like she’s there. Her body is there, but not her spirit. When I go to her grave, it makes me think about her body being there, and that just seems depressing to me. I have a memory of her open casket and it makes me cringe. After her spirit had left her, the body that remained did not resemble her at all to me. It’s much better to remember her life and the special memories we have.
- I recall one in particular. When I was in my late teens and early twenties I had a love/hate relationship with my Mom. I’m sure a lot of young women do. I wasn’t in a place in life where I could understand why she did what she did, so I reacted with anger. As I grew older and became a woman, our relationship deepened into a beautiful thing. When my husband was deployed to Iraq, she came and spent a week with me. I still had to work at the Naval hospital, as most of my employees under me had been deployed as well. One night Mom and I rented a movie called 8 Mile. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a movie about a young rapper trying to rise above his surroundings and make it in the music biz. It has these scenes with rap battles, where two rappers argue back and forth with lyrics ridiculing the other. You’d just have to watch it to understand, if you can get past the foul language. Anyway, when I returned home from work, I could tell Mom was excited. She had sat around all day writing rap lyrics and gathering her best “gangsta” wardrobe. She was ready to battle! We spent that evening rapping back and forth and even taped the epic footage for my Dad. She made a difficult and sad time for me, a crazy, fun adventure that I cherish in my memory.
- When we went to the grave today something unexpected occurred. I did not cry. As I put the flowers down at the foot of her grave, Chloe ran happily across the grass, tossing a doll into the air. My only thought was, “If Mom is looking down on us, she’s probably pretty tickled to see Chloe running about.” She wouldn’t want us to stand there and cry. She was a joyful woman, always making others laugh, and doing silly thinks like epic rap battles. She would want us to be like Chloe, smiling and carefree. So I didn’t cry. It doesn’t mean I miss her any less. I just find myself enjoying life around me more, as I know she would want me to do. I knew where I was going today. Usually that would fill me with a slight dread over the upcoming confrontation of my grief, but not today. When I awoke to a bird song, and found a newborn bird in a nest directly outside my window; I knew things would be different today. Like a new birth, healing comes. I think that’s what Mom would want.
I love you Mommy, and look forward to our next epic rap battle.
This blog is dedicated in memory of Martha Louise Graves
10/01/1954-10/13/2008
That is all 🙂