These are few of my favorite things…
On June 22nd, we passed our nine-month mark without Felicity Margaret. Abraham and I went to the cemetery together. It was a beautiful day and, truly, the cemetery where she is buried is a beautiful place. We staked some flowers into the ground by her grave and laid in the warm grass on either side of her.
I know some parents who have lost children don’t enjoy visiting the cemetery. I actually know one mother who has only been to her son’s grave one time since they lost him, probably fifteen years ago. It’s just not a meaningful place for her. I also know other parents who don’t like it because of the emotional pain of it.
I find it painful to go there, too. But it also is a peaceful place, where I don’t have to worry about grieving too much. I can be free to talk, cry, pray, sit. There are no expectations on me there.
And in some strange way, we get to do the only parenting tasks that we’ll ever do for her while we’re there. We can clean her stone, we can pull weeds, we can keep an eye on things. I know that probably sounds very strange to some of you.
But it always blesses me to watch Abraham be her daddy when he brushes the grass clippings aside and tidies things up. If she were with us, he’d give her her evening baths, put on her diaper, and get her dressed in her jammies for bed.
Our desire to parent her did not die with her.
After we visit the grave we always go for a drive on the winding, hilly paths, under the tall trees. And then we always stop at the summit of the hill (the cemetery is aptly named “Hillside”) to take in the spectacular view of Minneapolis. The ritual of it is part of our comfort.
To top off our special time with Felicity on her 9-month birthday, Abraham was very thoughtful and took me up the street to the nearby Dairy Queen, where I enjoyed my twist cone with crunch coating as we walked through the outdoor flower mart next door.
Favorite things of mine that were achieved on this visit:
- My daughter—check.
- My husband—check.
- Ice cream—check.