visiting Mom

The boys and I went to see my mom today. I haven't actually been to her gravesite since her funeral a year and a half ago.the whole rosary/funeral experience hadn't been great for me for obvious reasons, yes, but also because seeing my mom like that.. Her BODY, not HER had really jolted me. I knew she was gone, yes, but seeing that really brought it home to me that she was No longer anywhere I could reach, no matter how close her physical body might be. I told my sisters later that I didn't want to ever see it again. Her grave, I mean. It wasn't my mom, she wasn't there and I didn't want to see it and be reminded of that. Problem is, if my mom found out I hadn't visited her grave, she be pissed. My mom was the kind of person who visited graves. She brought fresh flowers, she decorated for holidays. The graves of her loved ones did not go neglected. So, as much as I said I didn't want to, the boys and I went to see my mom today. 

It was a little harder than I expected, considering my thoughts on the matter. I got out of the car and  had to stop. Hopper was the one who took my hand and asked, "Is your mom here?" 

"Yes and no," I answered and showed him the gravestone. "HEY!" He said, "Her name is Bonnie LEE! just like yours!" yep, just like mine. 

Rowan had brought some Thanksgiving crafts to share and left them next to the headstone. Hopper ran back to the car and came back with his basketball medal from last summer. "Would she like this?" I told him she'd be very proud but that he didn't need to leave it there. He asked, "Because she's not really here, right? She might not appreciate it as much as if I kept it."

"That's right, Bud. She's not really here. Where she is she can see that medal all the time." So he put the medal back in his pocket and both my sweet boys gave me the biggest tackle hug. I felt her there then.