There’s always the temptation to start these entries with “The weirdest thing about life like this…,” but I realize that’s pointless. There are so many facets of my life I would never wish on anyone (and there’s plenty of good too, just to be clear about that).
Like, I have recurring dreams where I’m trying to meet a woman because I need a mother for my children. They’re never that interesting, beyond the fact that I never find anyone. And that’s the point when I wake I wake up and realize the problem isn’t a lacking mother (she’s right next to me), but a lacking child. It’s not as if I wake up crying, but it certainly colors the rest of the day.
But I wanted to write about headstones again, because we’ve now reached this odd stage of grieving where we’re essentially shopping for headstones every time we come anywhere near a cemetery. We did this again on Saturday, when we stopped in the town where Christina’s Dad grew up as we continue driving around southern Germany. The cemetery is across the street from where her Dad’s house used to be and there’s a few relatives buried there, including her grandparents. The kids have never been. I was only there once, and that was 2003.
So, we started looking around, and no one made a conscious decision, but I’d say within minutes of us having found the grandparents’ grave and paying our respects, we had spread throughout the cemetery and were critiquing all the stones. Not in a catty way. But in a “that’s a nice idea” and “that wouldn’t be right for Colin at all” kind of way. And you have this odd mismatch as a parent where you think “Isn’t it great that the kids are helping us out here” except, you know, we’re doing it for their brother’s grave.
As you can guess, we still haven’t picked one. We’ve entered negotiations with the one stone cutter about the headstone, but they have two that look very similar and we, as a family, can’t quite get behind one design. Beyond that, Christina is wondering if we can add our own embellishments to the design. I won’t lie: There is a big part of me that just wants to buy this stone and be done with the whole thing, but I understand also that we have to get it right for Colin and for us, so that leaves us in shopping mode for a while. It’s just nothing I’d ever thought I’d be shopping for with my kids, for one of my kids.
It took me years to find the right item to use to store Kniff’s ashes.
I think it is good that Noah and Emma are included, that they are part of the choosing.
Holding the “both … and” mentally is something my family is working on a lot right now: This is BOTH a beautiful way to get the family involved in Colin’s headstone AND a horrible thing to have to do. This is BOTH a moving tribute from a loving family AND a heavy duty to have to carry. I know words to contain what you’re describing here aren’t much, but I hope affirmation that you are capable of holding all of these messy multiples is useful.
I think it’s great the children are included in the search for the headstone…they were there for his life and his death. They both know him in ways that only a sibling would know. The process may be more important than the outcome. Prayers.