The Tombstone

There's something unearthly about seeing your child's tombstone for the first time. Everyone knows it's not supposed to happen, but it does. It doesn't impart any sense of closure; certainly not if you believe the circle will remain unbroken; it just leaves you feeling like a Rod Serling character.

Planting flowers makes you feel like you're still being a parent. You try and select just the right flowers; the right colors; attention to detail gives you back just a little of the sense of control you lost the moment she died.

The gravesite lacks grass - she hasn't been there long enough for the grass to come in yet. You know that the greening will come, but for now the tanned, dry earth is like the scab on your heart.

I won't let myself visit as often as I might. When the hurt comes unbidden, there's no need in looking for it. I know that will all change in time.

Another member of this club that no one wants to belong to helped me to understand what I had to look forward to. I share this thought with you to apply as you will:

It doesn't get better - it just gets different.