Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The place we chose for Wyatt.

As I drove up the quiet road to the cemetery this afternoon I was greeted by the bold colors of Autumn. The trees that line the front of the small cemetery that sits on a hill are beautifully decorated with leaves that have now turned striking colors of gold and orange. As I continued to drive closer to the entrance the leaves began floating from their branches and falling all around my mini-van.

I continued through the gates and onto the narrow driving path in the small cemetery that sits on a hill until my van reached the part that Wyatt is buried. I put my van in park, turned the key to stop it from running and I got out.

There is something comforting about this place.

I stood looking at Wyatt's grave, where his body lay tucked in and beneath the surface of the ground. The grass is beginning to grow across the freshly dug dirt now. The flowers that sit in front of the Super hero themed marker were left from his funeral. They're now turning brown. The green and purple hummingbird that we brought him is still standing and bounces when the wind blows. The small, green metal truck that Jilly once picked to bring to him from his collection of toys is dirty with dried mud from recent rain. The solar powered light that resembles the Epcot "ball" is from our flower bed that stood beneath the weeping redbud tree that Wyatt chose and wanted planted in the front of our home. The light glows a rainbow of colors at night which Jilly thought Wyatt needed because he was sometimes scared of the dark.

It's windy on the hill, there is always a breeze and the air is chilly. But I felt I needed to be near my boy's body today. I just needed to sit there with him.

Is it weird to people watch at the cemetery that your son is buried at? Maybe a little, right?

Today I watched as a small older woman arrived in a newer red car. She stayed just long enough to place flowers at a stone before getting back in her car and leaving. I wondered if she was there for her Spouse, Sister, Brother, Son, Daughter or maybe a friend. A little while later another woman drove through the entrance in a mini-van. She was a little younger than the first woman, but still years older than I. She got out of her van and crossed her arms in front of her as she approached the stone she was there to visit. She stood looking at the stone for only a minute then proceeded to walk back to her van in which she left. As I was preparing to leave, an elderly man parked his own older blue mini-van just off the driving path. He sat in his vehicle for a short time before exiting. He zipped up his jacket as the wind blew, then opened the back door of the van and raised it above his head. He pulled out a pot of flowers and walked to a stone. He lovingly placed it at the corner of a nearby gravestone.

As I sat with my boy this afternoon I couldn't help but wonder who these people were here for. Who did they love so much to come to the cemetery today? As I sat looking around at Wyatt's "neighbors", there are some stones that are so lovingly decorated with small tokens, garden statues, flowers, flags, one even had a small fence around it and another with a birthday balloon tied to it that was seemingly dancing as the wind would blow. It's nice.

We chose this place for our son because it overlooks the girls' schools. This way he would always be near. The grounds on the other two sides of the cemetery are rolling hills of farmland. A small string of homes line the country road leading up to the entrance. It's a quiet and peaceful place.

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  1. Could this place be any more beautiful? Never.

    I always consider the other people at the cemetery to be fellow soldiers. Their very presence is a comfort. They are there because they know.

    Wish I could visit with you there. I do in my heart. Thank you for telling us about this quiet and peaceful place.

    Wyatt, you are missed. So missed.

    xoxo CiM

  2. What a beautiful, serene location. I feel that a piece of Wyatt is with everyone whom hes made an impression on. He is so missed.

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