Lot 125- Grave #11
The days couldn’t be any more different.
Today is an early fall crisp day, full of sun and skies with no clouds in sight. It’s the kind of day that could mark any birth, beginning or just a kick start to a fresh era.
The cool autumn air weaves in and out of the strategically spaced and planted low rising white birch trees. Some feel that to stand here is to be aligned between heaven and earth. The landscape is groomed, orderly and unblemished not only for the inhabitants, but more for the loved ones who come here either frequently or myself, who never come here at all.
Dr. Lubin is standing by my side. Her gentle hand is on my shoulder. I am not alone. Dr. Lubin has reined in the stray pieces to the puzzle of my life and together we have rebuilt the scenes. It's a challenging puzzle. Most of the pieces were missing.
But Dr. Lubin is a master and gifted healer who believes in delving straight into your soul and discovers with you, the buried treasures that have been hidden. They surface and we celebrate together. This journey could not exist without her.
The last time I was here, 20 years ago, was a cold, bitter day in December. The wind whipped it’s fury through the sparse trees, taking with it the last vestiges of the already deadened leaves. The trees as I remember, were so much smaller then.
I tried on that day not to think of you. I tried to find any distraction that would tear my mind from the thoughts of you. We had caused each other so much pain. I don’t think we knew then even why.
So many differences between now and then, so many conflicts, and so many unanswered questions.
I was angry then. I am sad now.
I had questions then. I have answers now.
It’s sad you could not have been part of the dialog of working things out.
That I had to do on my own, like everything else.
You lived angry and died sadly. I disappointed you even in death, while trying to make you happy in life. Our lives were a study in extreme contrasts, from the moment of my conception, to the instant of your death.
I believe, in my Polly Anna world, that I wanted to be born. You, in your brutal honesty, never wanted to give birth to me. You have always made that clear.
What is done is done.
I am not here to accuse, blame or denigrate you.
I am here to thank you. From your mistakes and flaws, I learned how to steer clear of making the same ones.
I don’t know if you would like me any better today. I tend to think not.
Everything you stood for, I was against, and vice versa. I am sure you saw me in later years as cruel and unloving, the same I had seen in you when I was a child. At what point did we merge and become each other?
Strangely enough I Iearned more from you than anyone else. I took whatever you didn’t give me and looked in other places for it and most of the time found it.
From your closed heart, I searched for others with open hearts and learned to open mine.
From your unhappiness I searched how to fill my life with joy and passion.
From your dishonesty and untruths, I learned how to be true and honest.
From your narrow focus on life, I learned now to broaden my vision.
From your black and white world, I learned that there are so many gray areas to be accounted for.
From your silence and disapproval I learned how to speak with kindness.
From your lack of nuturing and love, I am finally learning how to take care of myself and love myself.
We were sent to each other for many reasons. Our journeys so different, our lives so very different. I am still on my journey.
Your journey’s answers remain with you.
I blame you for nothing. You told me in later years you didn’t think I loved you. I told you I did and still do.
How I wish I had heard those words from you.
I am sorry it has taken me 20 years to place this marker on your grave. But nothing would have made you happy.
This marker represents my last endeavor for your love.
Please accept it.
I truly hope you can rest in peace.
I know that now I can let you rest in peace and I can live in peace.
Maybe this is the first and last time we agree on anything.
As I turn to leave, I place a large plant of purple mums on her grave marker.
Next to the mums, I place the photo of my dad.
I want it to feel like a family, my family. And for a fleeting moment it does.