Yesterday was the eight month anniversary of Amy's passing. My husband and I went to church, then went to the cemetery to put a wreath, some greens, and Amy's Tinkerbell ornament (I had bought for her last year) on her grave. It was snowy so softly and if a cemetery can be beautiful, it was. Gone were the dead grass and the dead leaves and the sticks that had blown off the trees. It was all covered in white. Some of the tombstones were covered too. Amy's was, as it slants a little up toward the sky. We had planted a few daffodils in front of her stone a few months ago and as our weather has been very strange, a couple of them had started to grow and one right in the middle had even formed a bud....A reminder to me that Amy is still alive, just not here where we can see her.
I sometimes talk to her while I am there. It seems like a safe place where people won't think I am crazy. I told her I loved her and missed her, that I wanted her to be able to see the special ornament I had gotten for her this year. Of course I cried, but not in agony like I had the night before...........
I was getting her wreath ready and wiring her little ornament to it and I just started sobbing. I wanted to scream. "No mother should have to give her child a graveyard decoration for a Christmas present." But I just sobbed and sobbed and didn't scream.
A week before I had driven by the cemetery and it was so cold that I just sat in the car and talked to Amy as I can see her grave from the car. I started to get really shaky thinking about Amy's little body freezing. I felt like I might hyperventilate. I had to firmly get a grip on my emotions and tell myself that she wasn't there before I went crazy. I told myself that she is with Jesus and is warm and happy. Then my mind went to those who have no hope. Who only think that their child is in the ground and there is no life after death. How can a person live like that? I praise God that He has given me assurance that I will someday be with Amy.
I have explained before that my husband is a man of few words. He doesn't show his emotions very often. Yesterday at the cemetery, it was just the two of us. He had put some Christmas flowers on his parent's grave and then we decorated Amy's grave. I was talking to Amy and then I asked him if he wanted to say something. He struggled and struggled and then finally sobbing said, "You have a merry Christmas Amy." We both held each other and cried. I then told Amy that Mommy and Daddy would be with her soon.
It is getting easier, but knowing she would have loved seeing the Christmas lights, hearing the carols and the Christmas hymns we sang yesterday in church makes it so hard for us left here. I just have to keep telling myself that the dazzling display of lights in heaven are beyond anything we can imagine on earth. And the music must be glorious!
Amy loved Christmas. She is celebrating this year with the One Who we sang "Happy Birthday" to on Christmas eve every year of her life. Amy loved birthdays too.
This is going to be the best celebration of all for her!
Someday we will all celebrate Jesus' birth together again. What a wonderful day that will be!