Dear Tracy,
Yesterday was your 35th birthday here on earth, your first one in heaven. I don't know if they celebrate earthly dates in heaven but, since God chose the exact time of your birth, as well as your death, it seems logical that they might. We spent the morning ordering a bench which will serve as a grave marker for the three of us. Don't worry, there was about enough money in your bank account to pay for it. Your Dad doesn't want to sit on the ground when he comes to visit you and a bench will actually cost less than two headstones. The part I like is that there will be a Corsair on your side of the pedestal base, and a lamb on mine. Jayson, the funeral director, suggested a lamb lying down sedately--because he doesn't know me well. I told him I wanted a spunky lamb. So mine is, if not spunky, at least frolicking. Jayson said traditionally the father is buried in the outside plot, but I figured your Dad would rather be closer to the Corsair than the lamb, so he gets the middle spot. And they will inscribe the phrase I wanted for my tombstone, "To be continued . . . Ps. 23:6" Meanwhile, I stuck a birthday balloon in the sod over your grave. It's a good thing you're dead or the wind rattling it would drive you crazy.
Will & Em invited everyone over for brisket. Em got up throughout the night to smoke it, the result was delicious. We were a little worried when Amanda didn't show up for dinner or answer our texts. At 8, she finally texted that she laid down to sleep for a few minutes and woke up hours later after lots of shaking from Mackenzie. She said employees aren't showing up at Cislo's and she is working non stop. She and Kenzie came out to the campfire for a while and took some food home. We plan to make her a part of our family and she hasn't run away screaming yet. Don't worry about Amanda, we'll take good care of her.
I sure miss you Trace. I always felt safe with you. Not just because you could protect me, I felt safe to be myself. You saw me with all my faults and frailty and accepted me anyway. I think lots of people felt that way about you. It is a rare gift. I know you wouldn't have been home for this birthday, it's too close to graduation. We are going, you know, to graduation. We debated whether we should. Will we drive to Helena just to be sad in a new location? Will seeing us make your teachers and classmates sad? But since they are setting up a display in the classroom in your honor and we would have been happy to watch your graduation had you lived (and been willing to participate), we decided to come. Reed is giving bolt gauges as gifts for your classmates and Jamar. I am bringing cookies, of course. I don't think I will be too sad. On your birthday, my mind was filled with memories of you being born. Labor is a pretty potent memory and, once the baby is in your arms, a happy one.
We would have had a family gathering for your birthday and graduation after you moved back to Kalispell. Now we know that celebration will happen later than we planned, but in a much nicer setting. And that gathering will last forever.
Love,
Mom
No comments:
Post a Comment