I visited my son’s grave today.
There was no special reason. No holiday or anniversary. No family or friends that live far away who wanted to pay their respects. I was just driving and saw the snow on the ground and wanted to check on my son, clean up his grave, and remove the decorations that I put up for Autumn.
Matthew is buried in a beautiful spot. I will be buried near him, but not next to him because that space is occupied, which makes me very sad.
It used to make me angry.
Until today.
The cemetery sexton told us that the grave right next to my son was donated and the family doesn’t have the resources for a headstone. There is a metal marker that has an index card with typing on it. The woman’s name has been obliterated. All I know is that death occurred in July of 1998 and that she was only 41 at the time of passing.
It’s hard not to think about “Her” when I visit the cemetery. She makes her presence known. That marker is quite close to Bug’s headstone and has very sharp corners. I don’t think that there has been a gathering there where someone’s pants, legs or coat don’t get ripped on the edges of that sharp, cold metal.
I also notice her because she has never, ever had one flower or sign of visitation in all the years I’ve been going to see my Little Bug. Though bitter and angry that she was occupying such a treasured spot, I began to be curious about this neighbor of my son.
To care.
Who was she? What was she like? Did she have any family? Why was she so abandoned?
It made me feel so bad for this woman.
For “Her”.
My family felt bad as well. So now, whenever we decorate or bring things to Bug, we put a little something on her grave, too. It’s the least I can do for someone who will lay next to my little one for all time.
It has come to give me a little comfort in a place and situation that is terrible.
Many people get comfort and peace visiting the graves of their loved ones, but I don’t. So, I don’t go to the cemetery often. It is not that I don’t WANT to go, I do. Because I miss my son. There are times where my desire to go and be in the same proximity of where my baby boy is is so overwhelming that I’ve gone up in the middle of the night in my pajamas, just to lay down on the grass and cry.
Being there is very hard on me.
I am a highly tangible person. When Matthew died, I ran around like a crazy person buying duplicates of every toy, blanket and special outfit I could find. Because I wanted him to be buried with the things that he loved in life, but I could.not.part.with.them. I needed those things to hold, cuddle, smell and cherish.
It’s hard for me to visit the place where he is buried because it is horrible for me to picture what has become of the little body that I loved and watched over. It’s hard to be there freezing and shivering and not freak out because I, his mother, his protector, can’t do anything to make him warm. I know it makes no sense. I know that he can’t feel anything, but BABIES ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE COLD.
Not MY babies.
Not on MY watch.
Going to see him at this place, this tangible reminder of the worst day of my life, is hard to do. To get through it I take comfort in whatever I can, whenever I can.
And today?
I got a little bit.
I parked my car, walked to Bug’s grave and saw that someone brought flowers to “Her”.
Someone remembered she was there.
Finally.
Even better? There was a card. Maybe I shouldn’t have read it, but after so many years and so much wondering, I had to know something about her. It was a simple statement written on the back of a Winnie the Pooh florist card:
“Mom, We love you and miss you dearly- The 4 of us are all here together for the first time at your grave since July 9, 1998. Love, Michael, Angie, Tony (Dad), Brandy”.
It made me ridiculously happy. While there is still no first or last name that I can give to “Her”, I know that she had the best name ever: MOM.
She had a family. Loved ones. People that loved her and cared about her and missed her. People that I could see, for whatever reason, were not able to watch over her final resting place and tend to her as they would like to.
Looking at that card I felt so much of my anger and resentment disappear.
I felt hope and gratitude, both things I have not felt in a very long time.
Hope that I CAN get through this.
Gratitude that even though it was only for a very short time, this wonderful, beautiful, AMAZING spirit that was my son…my Matthew…was MINE.
I got to be his MOM. The best word in the world.
It is something that I had almost forgotten in my layers of dark, unending grief.
“Her” and her family helped remind me that the joy of being Matthew’s mother can NEVER be taken away from me.
As long as I draw breath and have family, my child’s resting place will not be forgotten, but cared for and loved and watched over.
So will “Hers”.
I’ll make sure of it.
Awww, man, just found this through your link on the left sidebar of your site. Am crying with you. I’m so sorry. I wish I could give you a hug, though I don’t know you and doubt it would help. I’m not a religious person, but I’ll send up a little prayer for you and your little one. Peace and love to you both.
My daughter has a grave that is just like “her” grave. We still don’t have the money to get a nice stone 3 years later. The space beside hers is also another sweet baby girl with a beautiful stone. It’s so hard to go there and see it.
Loralee,
I just came to your blog through fivestarfriday. Your Matthew is the 2nd little Matthew I have “known” to die from SIDS. It really sucks that there are any Matthews or any other precious children to have their lives snatched away, their unrealized futures left to wondering about.
I really enjoy your writing and am looking forward to reading more here.
Peace to you.
oh my god I am so so sorry.
my mom lost a baby – they called it “Crib Death” back then.
I am off the edge of words here.
I am just so sorry.
I just wanted to say hello to you after reading this post. I wish I didn’t but I know a little about losing a child. Our daughter, Anna, was stillborn in 2006. We don’t have a grave to visit because I knew immediately that I wouldn’t be able to face what you do each time you go. I also don’t get to blog about her – not on my “regular” blog anyway, I’ve got a “secret” blog, isn’t that sick? anyway, I love how you write and I think I’ll be a devoted reader. Take care.
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Just clicked through to this from your sidebar. I am so, so sorry that you have had such a devastating loss – I’m sorry that you have to endure the pain that every mother fears.
I thank you also, as I sit here trying to hide from my 3 year old the sobs, for reminding me how precious each of our lives are, and how we know not what the next instant brings.
Off to cuddle with my babies for the rest of the day- and remembering you, and your sweet Matthew.
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Loralee,
I am SOOOO sorry for you loss. I’m glad there is a mom lying next to your dear Matthew for those times your can’t be there, and glad you are there to watch over her grave, too.
You are in my thoughts today.
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My eyes are wet. That is very beautiful, thank you. Bless you.
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Thank you so much for sharing your story, you write so beautifully. I can’t wait to read your other posts.
crying. just crying for your and her.
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Wow. I feel for you. I connect with your grief. For a moment in time, we connect. Your son is so loved and he knows it! :) And that is pretty amazing that all 4 of “Her” kids came to gather. That is wonderful. This post made my heart swell with grief, relief.. well you know the drill. Take care
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I came across you through Hola Isabel… I lost my dad back in the summer, so I too have been going through the greiving process. I go to his graveside several times a week, and I can completely understand how you feel about “her”.
Best wishes to you.
Laura Lee Gregg
Coila, MS
That is truly amazing! Bless you.
Loralee, I don’t know why I haven’t read this sooner. What a beautiful post. You are beautiful inside and out.
I SO understand what you’re going through. The trigger words, the images in my head, how it is so hard for me to visit her.
Thank you so much for sharing this.
Blessings,
Robin
Hi, Loralee
I know this post is more than a year old, but I bet your feelings haven’t changed a bit since then.
Your story moved me; I’m a father myself, and I don’t know what I would do if I -God forbid- were in your shoes.
Yours is an exceptional story of sorrow, pain, love, hope and solidarity, and I would like to ‘steal’ it. I sometimes steal other bloggers’ posts and bring them to my readers; what I would do in this case is to translate the post into Spanish and feature it in my blog, and then just put a link to the original post here for my English-speaking audience.
My “stealing posts” series is still relatively new, but it has its followers already. My question is: would you be OK with me ‘stealing’ this one in the near future? I will absolutely understand if you prefer I didn’t…
Loralee,
I can’t stop crying!!! You are amazing. Truly! I hope I never have to go through anything so painful, but if I do, I know I’ll think of you, and how in the midst of your own grief, you are still thinking of others. What a sweet example. I’m so deeply sorry for the loss that you have experienced. I can not even begin to imagine how you must feel. I wish I could say or do something to help ease your pain. I love you!
Oh my goodness. I don’t know you and yet I’m sitting here crying like I’ve known you my entire life.
i don’t know if this is something you would be interested in, but please at least check it out, because some of the things you said struck a chord. i belong to a webcommunity and a mother recently lost her baby just before he was to be born. she started this charitable organization called ForeverWarm.org. it gives blankets to women who have recently lost their precious babies so they will never be cold.
Somehow came across your blog this evening. Your post is beautiful. You brought me to tears.
Every time I think of you, you make me smile. Then I read something like this through tears and I smile some more. I’m truly glad we are friends, because you, dear friend, are a beautiful person. xo
just browsing around your blog, and stumbled upon this…i just wanted to say that it’s beautiful, and thank you for sharing it with us.
This post brought tears to my eyes, both for your loss, and for your compassion for a total stranger. As a Utah transplant who has lost several friends and family members over the past 4 years, it pains me sometimes that I can’t visit their graves because I live so far away. I know that they’re not “there”, and I don’t know that I’d get much comfort from visiting, but it also hurts to think of them alone. This gives me hope that they’re not. Thank you!
What a wonderful and compassionate mother and woman you must be. Thank you for “looking after” Matthews neighbor, and I am certain, his friend.
Although I have no information on “her”, I have some insight. My father, a prominent public official and nationally known geneologist, passed away two years ago, at the age of 61. His resting place still has the small metal grave marker pounded into the ground. His name and information are quickly fading, and giving way to mold. For reasons unknown, his second wife has yet to place a proper headstone. Decorations are few and far between; my brother is the only one left in the area. My sisters and I live in other states, and my mother and other brother live some distance away. One would think that he was abandoned. I assure you he is not.
As you visit Matthews resting place, petition his neighbor to continue to look after him. And I thank you for your looking after “her”.
I stumbled upon this blog post and cried. Beautiful post. I’m so sorry for your loss and for “her” family’s loss.
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