Gravestones and Such

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

The Cowboys lost, but I'm still smiling.  I figured the Saints would win, but the Garrett Cowboys gave 'em hell for a while.

I'm plenty stuffed, food-fogged and all.

Backtracking to pre-meal, though, My Family and I were riding to someone's house for the Thanksgiving celebration.

My Eldest:  Momma, does Papa have a gravestone somewhere?  (Papa is My Dad.)

I just started crying.  Tears welled up unexpectedly, and I was choked momentarily on the words that would answer her thoughtful question.

I catch my breath after a good thirty seconds or so, and struggle to answer:  No.  No, he doesn't.

More tears, more chest tightening.

Me:  Papa requested to be cremated, and asked that no headstone be displayed after his death.  He wanted his ashes to be spread at his favorite fishing spot.  I think My Mom took some to his favorite golf course, too.

My Little One, who was listening so intently, puckers up in sadness and I see that bottom lip just quiver.  Her fuschia-mittened hands pull moisture from her eyes.

MLO:  Mommy, that story just makes me so sad.

I reach around and rub her thigh consolingly.

Me:  Ohh baby, I'm sorry to make you cry.  It *is* sad, though, and it's okay to cry and be sad.  Just know that Papa sees us and hears us, and he's smiling.  He is in such a better place than we are, love.  It's okay to cry, and try to find happiness knowing that he's with us in different ways, okay?

Boo-hooing MLO:  Ohhhhkaaayyyyy.

A heavy & thick quiet settles in between us all, and I see My Eldest is crying just a little.  I hand her a tissue, and she offers a smile and gratitude.

MLO:  Mommy. *sniff, sniff*  I really wish I got to meet Papa.

The calm I had finally achieved was pushed out by more moist grief.

I nodded my head in agreement, my hand still on her thigh:  Oh baby, me too.

My Husband:  Someday you'll meet him, and you'll just know him, and he'll know you and it'll be like time never passed.

The remainder of the ride passed in mostly silence.  My Little One nodded off to sleep and My Eldest read a book.  Me, I clutched my heart charm that was given to me when My Father died, and I felt the etched "Bud" as I recalled the day My Dad returned to the Earth.

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I am thankful for my kids, that they are so open and vulnerable, trusting and sensitive.  I'm thankful they have a father.  I'm thankful for My Husband who barely knew My Father, and is like him in many ways.  I'm thankful that I have all that I do and all that I don't.

And Mom, I love you.  So grateful to have you near me & my family.  We just need to get Georgia back to Texas now!  :)

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Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!