Showing posts with label Grave Stone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grave Stone. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Wednesday's Woe - Missing the Uniqueness of My Baby...






Wednesday's Woe


Missing the Uniqueness of My Baby...





Merry Katherine's Birthday. We went to her grave site today...


I actually woke up happy this morning, and even had good dreams for a change... I was rejoicing that we had Merry Katherine 24 years ago, and how sweet that was to have our baby girl.


But as the day wore on, I had some unfortunate "Non Child-Loss Grief War civilian" downloads dumped in my lap to deal with that came seemingly out of left field - totally unexpected, that stirred me up to the most agitated state I've been in for quite a while... Finally by mid-afternoon, I told Tommy,


"I've got to go to her graveside for awhile."


Since it had been a long time since we had been, I gathered up cleaning tools and fresh silk flowers to take for her to have a clean marker with new pink birthday roses. East Tennessee is like my home state of Georgia in that it has Red Clay, and so at the graveyard, the red clay backs up onto the granite marker, filling in the engraved letters with mud which later dries out into red dirt so that you can barely read the information on our baby's grave. So I took about five old toothbrushes, a large brush, a large roll of paper towels, and the computer air cleaner, "Dust Remover - Compressed-Gas Duster" I think 3M calls it, and put them all in a plastic bag. Thankfully, Tommy decided to go with me. :)


When we got there and walked up to her grave stone, I pulled the cleaners and brushes out of the plastic bag and slid the plastic bag under me to sit down on instead of on the dirty ground, and I set out scrubbing and cleaning her grave stone while Tommy cleaned the mud and old flowers out of the vase. I told Tommy,


"This feels so good to get the agitation out and be doing something constructive for her."


While I was working, a peace came over me that amazingly settled the agitation. Tommy began straightening out his mother's grave site, and his uncle's, whose plots are across from, and next to, her site.


A woman down the way at the end of the row from us was tending a grave marker as well. I waved and she waved back. Later, she walked over and surprised me when she saw which grave marker I was working on and remarked,


"Oh! I know her! Are you her mother?"


She then told us she works at Central Baptist-Bearden Church, and that she knew Merry Katherine from there. (This is where Merry Katherine and her brothers chose to go to the wonderful youth department there when they were all in high school.)


Her name was Faye. She continued ~


"Your daughter was always smiling. She was always happy and full of spunk."


And as I pulled my hair out of my eyes, she lit up and said,

"And she looks just like you. You both are beautiful!"



Tommy laughed and said, "Yes, thank goodness she took after her mother."


And Faye laughed and then said, "Well I bet she had your personality."


I said, "She has his personality to a tee."



We had a sweet and encouraging conversation with Faye who had lost her husband sixteen years ago. It was such an edifying time to meet someone who knew our baby ~ and knew her sweet and fun personality like we did. Faye then left.


I knelt down and patted Merry Katherine's body by patting the ground over her body, and talked to her, crying. It was so good to commune with her and let the tears fall onto the grass over her. Again, a soothing peace fell over me as Merry Katherine reminded me,


"I'm okay Mommy. I'm here." (meaning up here in spirit...)


Later, after we got home, Tommy and I began talking about the agitating issues I had faced earlier in the day, and Tommy remarked,


"If Merry Katherine had been here she would have said things in such a way that would have transformed that situation for you."


We both cried. . .


I miss my baby and all the critically important roles she played in our lives. I miss my baby girl, and yet I am so thankful for the 19 years I got to have with her...











Photo from FotoSearch.com

Friday, February 6, 2009

Writing "The Stone" out of my Anguish


The poem, “The Stone,” was written out of my terrible anguish and confusion; I wrote it before I could set foot into that funeral home to decide what we “wanted” to put on Merry Katherine's gravestone. We were literally about to walk out the door when I just had to stop, sit down and write first. I absolutely knew I could not go there until I met with God first to process through some of my torment.

He knew the funeral home was the last place I wanted to go on behalf of my vital, lively, ever-active nineteen-year-old, and He so tenderly gifted me with that poem. Then we were able to go and complete that task—not an easy one, but with much more peace in my heart to be able to tackle it anyway. God is so merciful; He meets me in my heartache and pain, restoring an eternal perspective, and then, He wraps His arms around me and comforts me.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

The Stone

Angie Bennett Prince July, 2007

We go today to plan your stone.
We don't want to go there--it chills us to the bone.
We miss you and want you here;
We think of you and shed more tears.

The funeral home wonders where we've been;
Eleven months now--will our hearts ever mend?
I tried to explain the difficulty one day on the phone:
The last thing we ever wanted to happen--
We now have to carve in stone?!

So we go there today in God's strength alone
To carve your precious name upon that stone
Only because we know for you death is not the end;
On that fateful day, your life in Heaven did just begin!

And since for your sins and ours Christ did atone,
We know we will join you in Heaven
To worship our Lord around His throne.
Because some day, just as He did for Jesus
When the disciples thought He was gone,
For those of us who know Him, and by Him are known,
God--in His resurrection power--will come down
Himself to earth again to roll back all the stones!


Be sure to listen to "Then Came the Morning" (see the sidebar to the left) before or after reading my poem!