We don’t visit our son’s grave site as often as we should. I have this thought A LOT, yet I don’t even know what it means. It implies that there’s a defined frequency for how often we should be going to visit. When our son Chase passed away, saying it was a shock is an understatement. We were faced with decisions we never thought we’d have to make. One decision we made was to bury our son at a local cemetery. Being completely engulfed in shock and drenched in sadness, I don’t think this decision was one we made with a tremendous amount of intent, but it was more of a “what the hell are we supposed to do now” maneuver.
The day we picked out Chase’s burial site, is a day and a moment that will always stay vivid in my memory. As we walked the cemetery grounds it did seem really peaceful. The man who worked there was extremely helpful and I was fascinated with how he could manage a demeanor of just the right amount of friendliness and helpfulness, considering the general, oh what’s the word, suckiness, of the situation. He took us to the back of the cemetery, which is primarily where the children are. Yes, there’s an actual section. I took an unfortunate comfort in this. My thought was that Chase could be around friends his own age, and we as parents, could potentially be around people in our same club, assuming any of us ever ran into each other. I’m not saying we’d necessarily send out invites for a mixer, but in my earlier stages of grief, had I received an invitation, I probably would have rsvp’d with a plus one.
All of these thoughts swirled around the notion that I’d be spending a good amount of time at the cemetery. I pictured myself spending alone time with my son, bringing picnics, releasing balloons, laying on a blanket and looking up at the clouds, and decorating for holidays. While current times are loosely based on some of these ideas, they are generally far from the therapeutic sessions I had conjured up in my mind. I wish they weren’t.
We hadn’t gone to visit Chase’s grave site since Christmas. I thought with Valentine’s Day coming up it would be a good opportunity to find some new flowers, decorations and solar lights. We packed up Chase’s younger siblings and headed to the Dollar Store to pick out a few things. This is usually when my peaceful and skewed view of the situation starts to collide with reality. We entered the store and saw all of the decorations out for Valentine’s Day and even St. Patrick’s Day. I’m surprised they didn’t have out the garland for Christmas already. Am I right? Along with the decorations, there were parents with their kids, picking out holiday treats. They were all running around looking for beaded heart necklaces and cute cards, while I’m trying to find a decoration with a strong enough stand to uphold being pushed into a moderately sized pad of dense dirt.
I’m going to pause for a minute to address any concerns you might be having that I’m losing site of the two beautiful children we have who are living. I feel my response to you warrants both an entire post and none at all, so for the time being just know that I have a profound understanding for how precious life is and what a wonderful gift all of my children are. I will be preparing Valentine’s Day treats for our living children, but for now, I’m trying my best to carve out some time for my oldest son. Regardless of whether our children are in Heaven or still with us, we try our best, as parents, to give each of them their own special attention.
We spend our time at Chase’s grave site. My husband always does such a great job cleaning the stone and pulling the weeds around the cement border. Chase’s little sister, Bree, is getting to be more helpful and more distracted. She was so excited to hold the balloons we had picked out, until she decided the pad of lawn around her brother’s stone makes a great stage for a quick verse of “Let it Go”. Yes…again. We take a few minutes to talk to our son. We say our “Hellos” and “I miss yous”, and tell him we’ll see him again soon. It’s almost like clockwork that my eyes start to tear up as we’re driving away. I’m driving away from my son.
Going to Chase’s grave site doesn’t bring back the happy memories, it just reminds us that he’s gone. I wish it were that easy to say I’m not going to go anymore. Problem fixed. But it’s not that easy. While I dread having to drive away from my son, I don’t want to stop driving to him. I’m not going to give up hope that one day I’ll be able to find that therapeutic visit to the cemetery. When I can come home from a visit and feel like that was just what my heart needed. For now, it’s something different.
After we got home, I could feel that my energy was diminished and my fuse was short. I attempted an easy task – figuring out how to make the new external hard drive I’d bought at Costco, compatible with our Mac. I should have gone with something a little easier, like putting on my pajamas and going to bed. I don’t even think I need to give you three guesses as to how this scenario played out. It ended with me almost in tears, explaining that if something happens to our computer, all of our memories would be gone. Then we’d have nothing left of Chase. Ugh, ouch.
It takes a few days to “reset” after a visit to the cemetery. It doesn’t bring us all the way back to the early days of grief, but it brings the memories of those days to the forefront. So then do I regret the choice to bury our son? No. I don’t think a different choice would make this any easier. I’m not sure when we’ll feel the need to go back to the cemetery. And that’s okay with me. With all of life’s pressures, I don’t think this is meant to be one of them.
5 Essentials to Rediscovering Your Joy After Loss
This…
“I’m going to pause for a minute to address any concerns you might be having that I’m losing site of the two beautiful children we have who are living. I feel my response to you warrants both an entire post and none at all, so for the time being just know that I have a profound understanding for how precious life is and what a wonderful gift all of my children are. I will be preparing Valentine’s Day treats for our living children, but for now, I’m trying my best to carve out some time for my oldest son. Regardless of whether our children are in Heaven or still with us, we try our best, as parents, to give each of them their own special attention.”
Well said. Love you – you’re an amazing Mama (and a wonderful writer). XOXO
Knew I would probably need a tissue or two, get a lump in my throat and need some alone time reading this post. I was right. But It also makes me marvel at your strength to put such feelings into words. To share your honesty with others. To paint a picture of real life . Beautifully written and straight from your heart. Xoxo
Thank you for this.
Our daughter was born, and left us, this January 22nd. Im thankful that my parents and uncle took reins on the burial plans. For now she is in extended family’s mausoleum, next to my born still cousin Mark. Eventually I’d like to think she will come to a family plot with my husband and i. (we dont have one yet because jesus, who thinks of this stuff at 33 years old?). I havent gone to visit yet. And I cant seem to pull together my feelings on that.
Sharon, My heart hurts so much for you and your family. Your little Ivy is so beautiful and I love reading your blog posts. With so much emotion, you don’t have to pull any of your feelings together. Whatever makes you feel right in the moment. Whatever that is. Sending you so many hugs!
Beautiful thoughts. I remember this walk too.
Love you!
Seems like it was yesterday and forever ago at the same time. xoxoxoxoxoxo
I understand your feelings about going to the cemetery. We had to bury our only son 10 years ago. Not only do we have to go to the cemetery but we also have to go to the place where he had his car accident. I make a wreath for every season and every holiday to put there. I hate leaving that spot because that’s where I feel closest to him. I cry when we leave there and then we go to to the cemetery. I trim the grass around his headstone and sweep off any grass that is on it from mowers. I take pictures of the flowers I put there and the ones my sister sends. We talk to him for a little bit until I have to walk away from crying so hard. I always text our daughters that we’re going and they know that I’ll be depressed for a few days. They let me do what I have to do then I’ll text them to let them know I’m ok. No parent should have to go through the heartbreak of losing a child but I always tell myself I can lean on God for all my sorrows.