Of Cherry Trees and Headstones

Fall is almost in the air, I can nearly taste it. The windows are open, cooler evenings are upon us, ahh. I love this time of year. One of my favorite things about this place. Vala's is around the corner.

Tonight I decided to get to work on a project that has been upon us for a couple weeks.

When I decided to bury Adam in California, I knew it would be tough psychologically to have his body out of state. Particularly for our boys. I knew that developmentally, it was easier to understand death with visits to the cemetery on special dates. So I tried to figure out the best way for them to feel 'Adam' here. Of course I have pictures and the various ways he is integrated in our home and life, but the finality of death makes more sense to have a grave or something to represent death for children to visit. A space for them to be able to "go" to separate their grief. Once I began work designing Adam's headstone, I realized I had just what I wanted. It made so much sense.

At the cemetery where Adam is buried, they place temporary cement markers on graves. Those temporary markers stay in the ground until a permanent headstone is placed. For some, that temporary marker is the "permanent" marker, as it is up to the family whether to place another headstone. When I chatted with the headstone owner about the whole process, she explained that I could keep the temporary marker when they went to place his permanent headstone. I knew just what I would do with this marker.

I can't find the post I had written previously, which was adapted from my friend Teigan's explanation (she does a much better job of this), but hopefully this will make sense....

Teigan's parents were in Japan when the 2011 tsunami hit--the one that caused much havoc and destruction. She explained (as they were there long after the tsunami) that many months later, even amidst piles of debris and cars piled on top of one another, that the cherry blossoms on the cherry trees (one of Japan's trademarks) still bloomed. The beautiful cherry trees survived the aftermath and still bloomed.

I have loved this imagery. Teigan sent me a beautiful picture of cherry blossoms that I have hanging in my room to remind me that even amidst destruction, pain, heartache, and misery, there is hope, there is life, survival--and the ability to thrive again.

I knew that placing Adam's 'temporary' headstone in our backyard, underneath a beautiful flowering cherry tree was very fitting. My dad helped plant three trees in our backyard last summer. Tonight, after much work in getting the 25 pound piece of cement all the way from California to Nebraska, it has a nice place under the cherry tree.

After I was done placing the stone, I went and got a blanket and placed it next to the tree, on the slope of our grass. I lay there for a few minutes. The boys, of course, would have nothing of my relaxing by the tree. "Mom. I want to lay next to Dad's headstone." "Mom, I want to snuggle with you on the blanket." "MOM. MOM." It was sort of amusing. So we sat and I retold the cherry tree story to the boys. I told them that this space in the backyard could always be a place where they could go and chat with Adam, away from the rest of us. That even though we know he isn't buried in our backyard, that he is with us just as much as we need him to be. I firmly believe he is by my side helping do whatever he can on his side of the veil to help me in raising our boys. The boys liked this. In fact, when I took this picture, Spencer said how he wanted to help keep daddy's headstone clean. We laughed about the crickets and grasshoppers that were around trying to hop on us. One landed on Carson's face while we were all lying on the blanket. And somehow I knew Adam would find that funny. As though he would have a hand in doing such a thing.

It feels good to do some of the things that I've intended to do for a long time in regards to Adam. It's like, litle by little, I'm finding where his place is in our family and our life as we know it now.

Just like the cherry trees, we will blossom again. Life will get better. Life does go on. And we will thrive again.

I found the trailer for this movie that I found fascinating (disclaimer, I haven't seen this movie). It brought me to tears and sort of encompasses my feelings, just like my dear friend explained, about the cherry blossoms.