Do Weep
Created | Updated Jun 24, 2018
Do Weep
When my mother passed in September 2017, she was just a few days shy of her 98th birthday. A rich life, well lived and much-loved. We arranged her funeral to her wishes and ordered a suitable gravestone and surround. Her coffin was created a little longer than usual to accommodate Dad's ashes box. At her feet – because he always worshipped the ground she walked on, in life. It was a family joke and was mentioned at her funeral. Also part of the service was the poem Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep, one of Mum's favourites. It includes the lines: 'Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep.'
Another well-known poem speaks of the futility of weeping for a soul set free. This is the first grave I have visited where I have had such a tremendous emotional investment and since the gravestone, surround and lilac stones have been put in place, I've found it impossible not to weep when visiting. I'm not crying for her or them. Their problems are over, their toil done. They rest in peace, together for eternity. I cry for me. For my loss. I find myself thinking of others I have loved and lost to death. Taking flowers and grave markers to leave little messages has become a ritual in my grieving process. It's a work-in-progress.
I have seen others visiting graves – some take a moment after they have cleared debris and arranged new floral offerings, bow their heads in thought and maybe prayer. I have yet to see anyone weep but I'm sure they've seen me. Then I walk away to nature's chorus, birds chirrup and it's so uplifting, as if they acknowledge my presence. I make a final wave until next time and let the tears flow. I know it will take time and I have to go on living for the sake of the people who love me. But I will weep because I miss them so and because the arms that used to hold me close are gone.
This is Goldie. She mourns for Ian. I walked into my dining room (it has patio doors leading to my back garden) and there she was, with her front paws curled up on the slipper. Like she was trying to hug him or grasp his scent. She didn't mind me taking the photo either. Wanted to get her message across, I guess.
