What is "NORMAL"?

Everyone talks about the "new normal" after you lose a child. I don't believe "normal" will ever return to my house after my 18 year old son, Max, was killed in a car crash on 8/6/10. "Normal Died With Max", and this blog is about the life I have without him.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Time at the Cemetery

Now that I have a child at the cemetery, my daily thoughts always carry this knowledge.  It's not in the forefront of my mind but it's there.  It's *always* there. 

I process whether the decoration on it is still appropriate for the season.  I think about the stone being clean or not, whether the weather is affecting it.  I catalog where each family member is in their day and when I run through each person, I am reminded that Max is at the cemetery now.  Yes, yes, I know, he is really in heaven.  But his physical being, the one I physically gave birth to, is at the cemetery. 

When I visit him there, I am now aware of all the children buried in the same vicinity.  It's very obvious at Christmas time.  You can spot a child's grave the minute you drive in because it's super-decorated, some with life-size trees and signs that say "Santa, stop here".   I know when he has a 'new neighbor' because I am so familiar with who is buried around him.

A cemetery used to be a place I would visit on the day of a funeral and I would say goodbye to the person and never give it another thought until I maybe drove by that cemetery and then it would cross my mind.  Now ... now ... it's a completely different place. 

I've spent many, many hours in the cemetery, stomping around and shaking my fists at the heavens, talking to God and anyone else who can hear me.  I've taken my journal out there and sat on the bench closest to Max's grave and written many pages.  I sat near his grave in total darkness, freezing, and listened to the bells play Christmas carols on Christmas night, knowing that Max would only be home for Christmas "if only in my dreams" as the carol goes.  I've judged others as unhealthy for the amount of time in a cemetery - until my child was there.  Now I know the truth - the only judge of what is acceptable is the griever themselves.  WHATEVER it takes to live with the knowledge that I have a child at the cemetery is *what it takes*.  If that means never going, if that means going every day - it is what it is and it is acceptable.  IT IS ACCEPTABLE.

The cemetery is now a place where my son's ashes will stay until this earth passes away.  A place to decorate, to remember, to yearn for him, to cry .... a place to despise and yet appreciate the peaceful beauty .... a place that will always hold a piece of my heart and mind. 

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I was looking for your organizing service online and came across this blog. I'm so sorry for your loss.

Some of your posts talk about counseling for your grief. I am in need of such services regarding a child also but don't know where to go. Sounds like you have someone who is helping. Do you recommend this person to others? If so, I would love to know your counselor's name and would so appreciate an answer my post and tell me how to get in touch.

Anonymous said...

Isn't it the case that your son caused the deaths of one or more others?

Do you have any feeling for these people? Your son was dumb enough to drive while exhausted. If I were the other families, I'd have no sympathy for you at all. But your family has taken no responsibility for those deaths. Shame on you.

And by the way, I'm guessing Jesus is not looking fondly at your family either. The fact that you have shown no remorse at all for your son's role in this tragedy is sickening.

The Clutter Cutter said...

My counselor is Robyn Haxton, she is at the Family Life Counseling Center in Wichita, KS. She is excellent!

The Clutter Cutter said...

To the "anonymous" person who commented on my son driving while exhausted and how I feel about the other families affected. Your comments were extremely hurtful. I was going to delete the comment, but felt better to respond to it.

OF COURSE I have feelings for the others. I have felt such deep guilt, shame, and remorse that he was driving and someone else died, and many others were changed forever. You just don't see it here in this blog.

I have talked to the families, we have mourned together, and they have given forgiveness and do not hold us responsible.

My son was human, just as we are. He made a mistake. He wasn't dumb, he didn't act maliciously.

And with many things that come with a death like this, I've forgiven him and I've forgiven myself.

I pray for those families affected every day and thank them for the forgiveness they extended our way.

I think Jesus knows our hearts and looks very fondly on us all with His mercy. I pray you find peace and mercy as well.

Anonymous said...

Pam, your magnanimous response to this anonymous post is yet more evidence of your true, amazing character. Anyone that would say these words to you doesn't know you. It isn't about you. It's about them.

Anonymous, I have many responses to your comment, but responding to you is pointless, because you can't reason with hateful, self-righteous, ignorant people.