Block

I was notified that the headstone is complete.  I had put off picking one as it seemed so final.  Well it was, and what do you say on it?  I was so mad at him the first time they asked me if I was ready to pick one, that I said it probably wasn't a good idea because I was thinking that I would have something written that I would regret. This is a very emotional decision for the living.  You think of the person who you are marking for eternity, but it is you that has to write something, pay for it (why are tombstones the cost of a prized bull?), pick the color, pick the shape, and I'm sorry it was awful to do.  I took my daughter with me, she wanted to be a part of it and I was grateful for her being there, and I thought I was totally ready to do this, but in hind-site, I wasn't.   We picked something we thought was proper, respectful and showed that he was loved.  But this was so stressful that my daughter and I had a verbal conflict as we left the funeral home.  It was like we were all together in the funeral home and the stress and pain built up inside us like a volcano and erupted as we left the building. 


Death is difficult for the living, not hard, concrete is hard.  You can get through difficult times, but you will cry, and hurt and feel numb.  We will go on.  But I do wonder when things will be completed, when will it just be the future and not all the mess of the past trying to be cleaned up.  Who knew that one person who had what I would say a life that appeared "put together" would leave so many things that now appear like a giant pile of dirty laundry.  The "clean up" seems to go on and on for the living.  One moment the person is there and things don't seem complicated, and then one moment they are gone and you are falling down a steep cliff.  I only hope there is a lush meadow at the bottom when I am done falling.