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Yesterday, under a leaden sky in the pouring rain, I watched a solitary man fill a grave. And the grass was green where my father and mother lay, grandma and grandpa not far away.
I came to say goodbye. I've stood there so many times before. I wish to never stand there again but I will and some day I will lay there.
Just last week I came on a sunny day and pressed my hands to the gravestones, feeling the moss and rough stone, and I whispered I love you to my mother and my father.
It's not that I think it matters to them. They are no longer of this world. I do it because I need to remember to touch the people I love, to tell them that I love them.
Today, I woke up and ran to hug my husband. I love how warm he is, the scent of his skin, the way he hugs me hard and lifts me right off my feet. I told him that I love him and he said, "I know you do."
"But I have to tell you," I said. He nodded his head.
"Do you love me?" I asked him.
He hugged me again and said, "You're silly. Always. You know I do."
He's right. I do know. I still love the sound of it though. And warm skin is so much better than cold stone.
©Just Kate, 2010
I came to say goodbye. I've stood there so many times before. I wish to never stand there again but I will and some day I will lay there.
Just last week I came on a sunny day and pressed my hands to the gravestones, feeling the moss and rough stone, and I whispered I love you to my mother and my father.
It's not that I think it matters to them. They are no longer of this world. I do it because I need to remember to touch the people I love, to tell them that I love them.
Today, I woke up and ran to hug my husband. I love how warm he is, the scent of his skin, the way he hugs me hard and lifts me right off my feet. I told him that I love him and he said, "I know you do."
"But I have to tell you," I said. He nodded his head.
"Do you love me?" I asked him.He hugged me again and said, "You're silly. Always. You know I do."
He's right. I do know. I still love the sound of it though. And warm skin is so much better than cold stone.
©Just Kate, 2010
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I can relate to what you wrote. A couple of years ago, attending a burial of a cousin, I went to visit Grandpa and Grandma, my Great Aunt next to them. It had been five years since Grandma passed, and 24 years since Grandpa. Memories came back in a flood, and I dropped to my knees on the wet grass to touch the stones.
My Grandpa and I were very close. I know he was picking up the slack my father's absence left. When he died, I was devastated. My solace being music, I wrote a song. One of the stanzas sang, "The joy in remembrance as time goes by, is the hope that in memory their love will never die."
Every so often, I feel him near me, encouraging with his low soft voice, and I am happy I was right.
BT
Thank you so much for reading and letting me know you were here and most especially for the love.
I don't need to know who you are to appreciate the love. Thank you.
Sarinda,
Thank you so much for letting me know you were here. You are truly fortunate to have both of your parents. I sneak over every so often to look at the photographs of them. They remind me of when we were kids and of a time when I still had my parents.
I also want to thank you for the encouragement to keep blogging. :)
BT -
You brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing that memory. You're right that the love never dies. The other day when I was standing at my parent's grave sites I felt a hand slip into mine and for a moment it felt like my mothers - I could FEEL her - and then I looked over to see my daughter looking back at me. She's not my biological child and yet I see the love of my mom in her, I see that it's been passed on. And like you, I can hear the echo of their voices: mom, dad, both sets of grandparents, my best friend, Rachel,... and I'm thankful for the privilege of having been loved by them. I hope someday that someone else feels me even when I'm "gone."
The lyrics to your song sound like something that should be sung by a choir in a chamber where the sound rings round and round and round. That's how I hear it in my head, anyway. Echos of days gone by.
Your comment means so much to be, Brit. Thank you! ♥
Ruby (T),
Thank you so much for letting me know you came to read. ♥
Anonymous, I'm glad you found me and that you let me know you were here. Thanks for that and for the love. :0)
Jules, What a lovely surprise! Thank you. :0)
In 2001 my Step Dad passed away, I just called him Dad. He married Mom when I was 11 and he became a "Dad" to 4 Kids. He took care of us and provided the Father figure we all needed. The Day before he passed away, I was at Dad's home eating dinner with Mom and the rest of the family. As I left I said, "I love you Dad". He told me he loved me too......tough and gruffy Dad told me he loved me! How cool is that.
I tell my Son and Daughter how much I love them daily. You never know when that chance will never happen again for either of us.
You are such a wonderful friend and I do love you sweet Lady!
God Bless,
~Calvin
You make me smile, Cuz. :0)
Calvin,
I have tears in my eyes. What a poignant reminder of how quickly everything can change. I don't think my dad ever told me that he loved me. I would have given just about anything to hear those words from him. Maybe he meant to say them. He died unexpectedly so I'll never know.
Likewise, neither of my husband's parents ever told him that they loved him, not once. We were there as his father lay dying and still he wouldn't say it. Maybe he couldn't say it. Maybe he didn't feel it. We'll never know.
So, yeah, I think it's every kind of cool that your Dad told you he loved you. I think it's WONDERFUL. Thank you so much for sharing your story.
I want us to do a better job of loving one another right now because sometimes the tomorrow that we're counting on never comes.
You're the best. xoxo
Evelyn, You should have seen me smile when I saw that you came by. Thank you. ♥
Tim,
I was just thinking of you and our first conversations which were about loss, life, and God and not about the weather. Imagine that. ;)
Thank you for the song and letting me know you were here, both here and there.
It never gets old, does it.
This was such a tender and warm blog, thanks Kate.
Have I told you lately that you make me smile?
:)
Hey, Jay!
I was just thinking about the "island" experience, you with your fleet feet and me up a tree and how we wouldn't have to become cannibals if the island has chickens. Of course we wouldn't want to befriend them...
What?
Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about!
♥
YO!
Yeah we mighht KNOW it but hearing it is the sweetest thing next to feeling it.
I LOVE YOU KATY. I am so very glad we met and became friends. xoxo
Imma stick my tongue out at you, Jay! ;P
Thank you, Chris! I LOVE to hear it, love to say it, live to feel it. xoxo & ♥
Katy Jo, even though we are off and on, you do hold a special place with me. Take care; you know I love you. Your friend. ~ Kevin
Please know that there is no "off." There never has been. I simply deactivated my Just Kate fb page for the time being so I can focus on my writing goals. :)
I'm so happy to be reconnected to you! You're writing always touches me *just so*... I've really missed you.
Amazing how those three words can never be said too many times, they never lose their luster.
I've missed you, too! I was thrilled when I found you and realized we didn't need an online social network to stay in touch. You inspire me with your courage. My biggest regret in life is that I failed to stand against someone who wronged me, hugely. I allowed myself to be robbed and maligned and I did nothing.
I will follow your blog with interest, Rebecca, and with the hope that some of your courage will rub off on me!
Barbara (MySp and FB)
Barbara, Thank you for your support, my friend!
Bruce, It's great to see you here. Thank you so much for coming. :)
Ha! I like the picture, Steve. You look like a cowboy!
Thanks for coming by, my friend. It's good to see you again.
xoxo
Colleen, I feel a sense of peace at the cemetery, too. It's where I go to glean perspective when I'm confronted by one of those monsters in my mind. :) The knowledge of just how ephemeral life is helps me to live well. xoxo
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