Friday, February 12, 2010

cemetery

Dear Brian,

I visited the cemetery a couple weeks ago. Been thinking about you and wanted to go to the place we decided to bury you for a couple minutes of quiet (very cold and wet) time.

I hate it there.

I'm sorry.

I hope this feeling won't last much longer.

You see, I can't get past knowing your body is lying 6 feet underground there where I stand. Instead of standing, sitting, walking or kneeling and fondly remembering you, I just can't get past the thought of your BODY entombed below. I feel like I can see you through the soil.
I cannot escape the thought that the same arms that hugged me each evening when you arrived home and held me each night before I wriggled away to my comfort zone for peaceful sleep are in that casket below.

The same fingers and hand that reflexively intertwined with mine are now forever still beneath that frozen tundra.

The same bow legs and feet that shuffled through life those last two years as you lost your ability to move around easily are immobile under that snow.

The same mouth that formed every word and smile, the same tongue that performed many stupid human tricks, the same voice that comforted, consoled, gently critiqued and encouraged everyone around you are now eerily silent just under my feet.

While the grief and the pain of losing you are much easier, the cemetery just makes me think of your body.

I can't get past it when I am there.

I can barely fight the urge to start digging just to see you, which I realize is incredibly warped.

I pray that one day soon, it will become the comforting spot I intended - a spot to remember you peacefully and fondly.

KEEP BELIEVING
(pictures taken on a warm September day)

10 comments:

  1. I completely understand where you're coming from.

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  2. No words, just hugs for you.

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  3. Ive never commented...but Ive been reading for a long time. I just wanted to send some hugs. And tell you that you are a such a strong person in my eyes. I hope you have a good weekend. :)

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  4. It's not weird, it makes perfect sense. I guess the only words I have to offer are to remember that Brian is no longer hampered by his body here on Earth. He's probably loving his new body in heaven! But I so understand longing to be held by those arms. Your memories are a great testimony to a marriage based on love. Hang in there!

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  5. Your honesty blows me away. What I love about you, Angie, is that you are not afraid to say what so many want to but can't find the courage to express. And though your sadness is so palpable, your transparency is giving hope to others who are grieving. Christ is using your sorrow to encourage others that they are not alone or strange in their feelings. Don't change, Angie. I see Jesus in you and that is a beautiful thing to behold. What the enemy meant to destroy you, God is using for good, for the saving of many lives. Love, Shawn from TN

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  6. Angie, that body that lies beneath... it's not where your Brian resides now. Visiting that stone isn't necessary for him to know and for you to know that you are thinking of him. I'de say you carry him everywhere you go, right there in your heart. That sounds sappy coming from me because I don't usually talk in those ways with words.. but I think it's true.

    Happy Valentines day to you and your boys - K

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  7. I rarely go to the cemetary for this very reason. I just don't feel like she's there. But for that first two years or so...I'd cry every time it rained. Even though we know in our heads that there is a new body in heaven...we long for the touch of the one we knew.

    It baffles me how you put your feelings into words, Angie. I so admire you. Much love, dear lady.

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  8. Hi, Angie, I came by here because Jen told me about you. I am SO SO sorry for your lost. I lost my husband last October but he was in his sixties; a very young, vital man in spite of his years......it's no easier but...in a way, I guess it is, compared to losing such a young man as you did. My husband was cremated. I have his ashes here in a closet until they'll be dropped from a small plane over the ocean in May at Marina del Rey, here in LA...the same day the half of his ashes his children took home to Germany after the funeral will be spread over the North Sea.
    Sometimes, I go past that closet where the ashes are and simply can't BELIEVE he's there...I guess I just don't believe he IS.
    You write beautifully and honestly..thanks so much. Z

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