See it in Stone

Miranda Lambert's "Over You" came out on radio play in mid-February, right before my mom passed.

My mom was cremated.  We didn't bury her ashes till June.

There's a line in the song

It really sinks in, you know, when I see it in stone.

I think of this line often.

I'm not a cemetery person.  I choose to remember those I've lost in happy ways -- not buried in dirt. My grandmother, who helped raise me, who I adored with my whole heart, passed away in 1997.  Not once have I visited her grave.

However, my husband is.

And my father-in-law, who passed 13 months before my mom, is buried at the same cemetery as my mom.

Four spots away.

So when he wants to go to the cemetery, I feel it would be hurtful and disrespectful to not go "visit" my mom.

I break down every time.

This time, as I got on my hands and knees and tried to make sense of the name carved in the marble, I saw something that looked like a piece of paper, a thick piece of paper.

I picked it up.

It was a card.  A card, with her name in a heart.  From my stepdad.  For their anniversary, no doubt.  Eighteen years on June 25.

It broke my heart.

John helped me up, and back to the car.  Upon approaching, as he does often when he sees my tears, PJ said,

"Mommy's sad Daddy?  She misses grandma."

And after I got into the car "Mommy, no sad.  Grandma's in heaven.  I love you."  Followed by a smile.

And Maggie, "NO CRY MOMMY!"

And how I want to tell them I don't only cry for my loss, but for their loss of a grandmother who would have made them feel loved and amazing every day of their lives.  A grandmother who would have done anything for them -- and did in the short time she had to enjoy them -- and who would have stopped at nothing to make them the happiest kids on earth.

One day I'll tell them.  One day.  And my heart will break all over again.