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I swallowed away the tightness in my throat. “Grandma and Grandpa are coming with us to the cemetery, but other than that, it’s up to you guys what you want to do. We could look at some photo albums together or maybe visit some of your daddy’s favorite spots. Whatever you guys feel like.”
Gabe and Josiah shared a look, and I frowned. What was going on? A heavy feeling settled in my stomach.
Gabe met my eyes. “We’re really grateful for how hard you’ve worked these past few years. You’re always there for us, and I know it hasn’t been easy.”
“Thank you.” I must’ve misinterpreted the look between them. “You two make everything worthwhile. I love you both so much. And so did your daddy. God, he loved you. The look on his face when he first held you… Nothing but wonder and love for those tiny little miracles.”
Dammit, the tightness in my throat wasn’t so easily swallowed away now, and I needed a few moments to compose myself. “Now, let’s finish breakfast so you guys can shower and get ready to go to the cemetery.”
The sun shone brightly when we entered the parking lot for the cemetery, which was on the outskirts of town. The sky was painted a brilliant azure blue without a cloud in sight. It had been an equally sunny day when Samuel had died in my arms, and I’d been so angry the weather had seemed to mock my pain and sadness.
My parents had already arrived and stood waiting for us at the entrance. When Samuel and I had started dating, they’d embraced him wholeheartedly. My mom especially had gone out of her way to make him feel like family, knowing his parents weren’t so accepting. And through Samuel’s sickness, his death, and the last five years, my parents had stood by me, as had my sisters.
“I love you,” my mom said as she hugged me. “And we’re so proud of you…and Samuel would be too if he could see you.”
That would be the theme of today, this constant mix of memories and sadness, of gratitude for the love I’d had and grief that I had lost it way too soon.
“I know, Mom.”
My sons got a warm hug as well, and then we walked to Samuel’s grave. When it had become evident he wouldn’t get better, Samuel and I had talked about his wishes. One thing he’d been crystal clear on was that he didn’t want one of those fancy gravestones, the glass ones with a picture engraved on it or anything else ostentatious. Something simple, he’d requested, and I had honored his wish. His headstone was a big rock engraved with his name, birthday and the day he died, and “Loving husband and father.” What else was there to say? Nothing.
You couldn’t capture the rest in words. The way his smile had lit up the room when he’d walked in. How infatuated he’d looked on our wedding day, unable to take his eyes off me. The dedication he’d shown to being a dad, reducing his work hours as a therapist to take care of the boys. He’d loved the life we’d built together…until it was all gone.
My mom had brought wildflowers from her garden and placed them on Samuel’s grave. I stood there, an arm around each of my sons. Josiah started crying, and I pulled him against me. “I miss Daddy,” he sobbed.
“I know, buddy. I miss him too.”
“I have trouble remembering his voice sometimes,” Gabe said quietly. “So I listen to the video to remember.”
Samuel had made a video for each of the boys, sharing all his love for them, as well as the hopes and wishes he had for their future. I still couldn’t watch them without losing it.
“But it doesn’t hurt as bad as it used to,” my oldest said.
“Grief softens over time,” my father said, putting a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “And your daddy wouldn’t have wanted you to be sad forever.”
Josiah had stopped crying and dried his eyes with his T-shirt. I let go of both of them.
“Take your time, honey,” my mom said. “We’ll head back to the entrance.”
My parents took my sons, leaving me by myself. I sat down at the foot of the grave. Some people talked to their deceased loved ones, but I’d never been able to bring myself to do that. It wasn’t that I feared feeling stupid—though I undeniably would—but more that I would lose it. Even on a day like today, I couldn’t fully let go. And I knew if I started talking to him, I’d remember how much I missed that, and I wouldn’t stop crying for hours.
So I sat there and just was, letting the environment soothe me as I took a deep breath. The scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the fragrance of wildflowers, which were in full bloom, but there was also a faint mustiness from the dirt and graves. Headstones stood tall against the sun, their shadows stretching across the grounds. Flowers brightened pathways, and benches provided a place to rest among the graves. Birds chirruped and flew to and from their nests in the trees that swayed in the breeze, and honeybees buzzed from flower to flower to gather their nectar.
The cemetery was alive with life, even in death.
Wasn’t that a fitting metaphor? Life went on. It didn’t stop for death, not even when your whole world had shifted. The next day would come inevitably, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop that, as much as I wanted to sometimes. One day when everything stood still. One day when I could grieve without fearing the consequences. One day when I didn’t have to be strong.
I took another deep breath and pushed to my feet. “I miss you, my love,” I whispered, then turned around and walked briskly back to the entrance.
“Can we go for ice cream, Dad?” Josiah asked when I joined my sons and parents.
Ice cream. Not the activity I’d imagined for today, but why not? The weather certainly suited it. “Sure.”
We hugged my parents good-bye and drove back to town, where I parked at Collins, which sold ice cream in the warmer seasons, both soft serve and various flavors of Italian ice cream. A few minutes later, we sat on a bench, the boys enjoying their mint chocolate chip ice cream while I licked at a big soft serve.
“What was Daddy’s favorite ice cream?” Josiah asked.
I smiled. “Vanilla, believe it or not. He cared little for Italian ice cream, but he loved Magnums.”
