December 22, 2011
"But Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often." Luke 2:19
Earlier this week I tagged along with my husband as he traveled to Dallas for a business trip. Back-to-back meetings for my husband left me free to roam our old stomping grounds. My first stop? The cemetery--to pay our daughter a Christmas visit.
On account of our relocation to Central Texas, nearly two years have passed since I last visited her. I arrived to the cemetery just after eight o'clock in the morning. Just me. No one else. No bereaved family members or friends visiting loved ones. Just an opportunity for some quality mother/daughter time.
I realize my daughter isn't really there. My faith allows me to rest knowing that her spirit, her soul, the part of her which God made to last for eternity is alive and very well in Heaven. The cemetery is simply the place I go to visit the most tangible memory of my daughter.
"Your flowers look weathered," I tell her. "I'll buy a replacement and return in a bit." As a mother, the chance to care for my child, to do something for her brought my heart tremendous joy.
Amidst visits with old friends and neighbors throughout the day I eventually made it to the store and returned to the cemetery with flowers--and a full heart--in hand.
"I'm back," I said to her. I placed the new flowers in her vase and pulled out a small wind-chime I purchased years ago and hung it on one of the stems. Sweet music chimed in the gentle breeze. Resting my hand on the ground one last time I whispered my goodbyes.
I hate that the body of one of my children resides in a cemetery. Driving down the dirt road which leads to my daughter's grave site fills my mind with wonderment and disbelief. But to visit my daughter at Christmas time is a gift I'll treasure this year. A simple gift. Just a mama caring for her child the best she knows how.
Merry Christmas my sweet one. May you rest in His arms tonight.