The Graveyard

We’re walking to the graveyard for the first time since my grandparents passed away. My feet are sweating, my hands are sweating. The lump in my throat is making me feel vulnerable; one hug and I might collapse. I’m looking and looking and looking for the graves. I can’t remember where they are.

Avalon is skipping a long through the graves; her dress stands out from all the gray.

I tell her, “Don’t step on the gravestones”. A long conversation ensues about why. She runs to the trail. She stops. “Mom, look!!!”

Lying on the unforgiving pavement is a Monarch butterfly. Her intricately swirled fairy wings are perfectly still. Avalon’s blue eyes are wide with fascination and shock. “Mom, why did she die?”  

On the hill there are two beautiful and ancient ladies.  I name them Ethel and Alice. Ethel is supporting Alice. Alice has silvery long hair. They pause at a grave, holding each other, smiling, laughing. I imagine what they are saying. I bet it starts with “remember when”…. They slowly shuffle together to another grave. They pause again. I imagine their tears on a journey, falling down through the patterns of wrinkles.   

I still can’t find the gravestones.

I look up to see the outlines of my mom and dad. I try to decide if this is a miracle or a consequence of living in a very small city. They point and shout to me, “Grandma and Grandpa are over there!”

Finally, we’ve made it to the hardest part. Avalon is unimpressed, but imaginative of Grandma and Grandpa’s life in heaven. The gray stones can’t tell us anything.   

Ethel and Alice have traveled back and forth from their two grave spots several times. It’s time to go.