Tag: Memorial Day

Plant the pansies

So who should show up in my dreamland last night, but my Mom! She came from the other-side to go with me to the cemetery.

We sat at the edge of Daddy’s headstone, on a sidehill. I was busy planting blue pansies in front of the stone. Mom looked down over the hill and stood. She pointed and said excitedly, “There’s David!” She waved exuberantly.

Then dropped her hand saying, “I guess he can’t see me. But he had someone with him.”

I told her, “They must be going to decorate Uncle Dave’s and Aunty Cal’s graves. That must be Rene with him. She decorates their parents’ graves every year for Memorial Day.

Even though Mom’s grave was right there beside me, I did not find it odd that Mom had come to sit with me while I decorated Daddy’s (and her) grave.

It was a nice visit. It did not seem to be filled with sadness, just love. I miss them both and now I must go plant the pansies.

Memorial Day

Earlier this morning, I was lost in thought about my son-in-law, Michael, who passed-away six years ago.

Like living film clips, similar to the windows in my last post, I remembered Michael’s conversations with me in the hospital. He apologized for his life coming to an end. He spoke of innocent mistakes he had made. He spoke with pride of his wife, her accomplishments and strength. And his two sons, his concern for them and his aspirations for them. He thanked me for nurturing their musicality.

From out of no where, he shouted, “HEY!” He was right next to me, but sounding a bit like he shouted through a tunnel. I smiled, “I hear you honey. I know you’re here and I thank you. Mom loves you.”

Then I remembered him telling me more than once, “Sometimes you have to get a little crazy to get their attention.”

It is comforting to know that Michael is not dead, but lives. On the other side of the veil, yes. But he lives. He visits, he watches over us, and he loves us still and eternally, as we do him.

I am grateful that our dear Michael got my attention today, on Memorial Day.