A few days ago we drove to the cemetery as a family. I felt like each of the things my kids said to me made a lot of sense:
Lincoln: "I hate the cemetery. I don't want to go. It is frustrating and makes me mad."
My commentary: I have never hear him use the word frustrating before. I don't think he fully grasps what it means, but he must have heard it in a negative connotation and felt it fitting. He says "hate" a lot more than I would like him to; not sure where he picked up that word because I don't feel like it is said a great deal in our house.... anyways. He says he "hates" a lot of things that he doesn't really hate (like breakfast time and sunbeams), so I don't take him too seriously. He has been in a strange mood that last couple of days and this verbiage isn't totally unlike him.
As he said those words I totally related to him. "I hate the cemetery." I hate that I have to be there. I hate that this is part of my new life. I hate it. I hate that month markers are not enjoyed by a new milestone such as sitting up or crawling or a new tooth. I hate that we know that another month has passed, not by watching Eli grow, but by watching how many hard water stains we can see on Eli's decorations by his grave.
"I don't want to go." I hear you Lincoln . I don't want this to be part of my life. I want tiny shoes and chubby hands to hold onto instead of the balloons I take to him each month.
"It is frustrating." Yes, it is frustrating Lincoln. It is frustrating that your little brother is in a casket in the ground and you don't even understand what that means. It is frustrating to feel stuck in grief at times. It is frustrating to feel like the only place I can buy something for Eli is in the lawn and garden area because you don't exactly go to the baby area to get "decorations" for a grave. It is frustrating to want something so badly and have not way to assuage that feeling. It is frustrating to watch everyone's life go on except yours. It is frustrating to have a righteous desire feel so painful when it is not realized. It is frustrating to not have life work out like you had hoped. It is frustrating that I have to wait to hold him again. It is frustrating that my thoughts are so wrapped up in the only child I can't take care of when my other children need more from me. I agree with Lincoln. It is frustrating.
"...and makes me mad!" It makes me mad too, Lincoln. Sometimes very, very, very mad.
Katelyn: "I don't know why we come to the cemetery. It's not like he's here."
My commentary: It is pretty normal for Katelyn to have argumentative comments like this. I think it is how she deals with her emotions. I think her heart is tender, but she covers it up with anger and apathy at times. This is a pretty normal comment from her.
I have felt that at times. "Why am I here? He's not here." But he is there sometimes and the spirit is always there. It is sacred, dedicated ground. We don't dedicate that many places; our temples, our homes.... graves. It, quite literally, is holy ground. I talked with her about this.
Ethan: (I saved his comment for last because he is the most soothing and on target). I asked him if he liked coming to the cemetery. This is important to me because I don't want to drag my kids there if it isn't helpful or beneficial to them. So far, I think our monthly visits as a family are a good thing for all of us. He said, "I like being here because it makes me feel calm; except for when Lincoln is here..."
My commentary: Really sweet and unfiltered. I mostly readily agree with Ethan. I go to the cemetery because it is a calm place. Ethan senses that. Not everyone does.
Sometimes I have asked myself why I go? I have had thoughts about how he isn't really there...it's just his body. I recently had a conversation with a grandpa of another baby that is buried near Eli. He said that he didn't feel like his grandchild was there...it was just a place for his body. I thought about his matter-of-fact comment as we talked. I thought to myself," Then, why are you here?" I think he felt something. Even if it wasn't the presence of his grandchild. something drew him to that tiny grave. He drove in his car and got out and walked over there. You wouldn't do that if some feeling weren't drawing you there; if you didn't feel something. Or if you weren't trying to feel something.
Here's to driving to the cemetery as a family; the thing you never thought you would do. We don't usually work that location into our life plan.
