For weeks I’ve wanted to go to the cemetery, but I could never quite bring myself to do it. Then I decided to wait until Mother’s Day. But yesterday I did it. I visited mom.
I think I was compelled to visit her yesterday because while I was there my brother was undergoing quadruple coronary bypass surgery. We, and by “we” I mean him as well, just found out about this last week.
A week earlier, R. started feeling some back tightness after one of his exercise rounds. He acknowledged it and was keeping an eye on it. He continued experiencing this tightness after working out. The red flag went up after he experienced the same feeling just from walking. So, he saw his doctor who told him to immediately see a cardiologist who promptly told him to go to the hospital and get checked, which brought us to him having surgery yesterday. Which went great, thank goodness.
It was a bit surreal standing in front of mom’s grave, still covered with dirt. There was a marker identifying her with her name and year of birth and death. That “D” word still gets to me. It was peaceful. The grounds were immaculate.
I stood there for about 10 minutes, then said my goodbye. Until next time.