Hey. Hi. I'm back. Again.
You know, I've been thinking. You've made me think. So really, this is all your fault. This thinking. I've been thinking that graveyards are funny things, you know? Well, of course you know. I mean, not that everyone walks into a graveyard giggling. But some chuckle. Have you noticed? Some are even soothed. Most are creeped out just driving by them, but for a few, a precious few, taking a jaunt through the gravestones is a favorite past time. Maybe it's not the most ideal location for a picnic but for those with a particular sort of imagination it's a wonderful, thrilling experience. Names, dates, and a few lines of the loved one. Sometimes there's not even that much and you get to fill in the blanks. Some of the lines are funny, clever, poems, quotes. Telling. Empty birthdates but final death dates. A surname, no first.
And I can't help but wonder, who exactly has been laid to rest here? Whose headstone is this? Did the deceased pick it out or a surviving spouse? Child? Maybe just a friend or neighbor. Were they heroes or villains? Did they live on the streets or in a mansion? Had they led a noble life or a rotten one?
What if this one used to love her bird so much she was buried with it?
What if that one fought in a war and had his own flag honored in a loved one's house?
And this one, the one with so few difference in the birth numbers and the death numbers, did they know love and safety and laughter in their short time? Did they have a favor color? Food? Toy?
It helps if some skip past the thought of those above ground who mourn those under the stones. What of before the stone's engravings?
Why does this one have a statue over their grave? Who loved them enough to do that?
And these two, this joint stone, it can break your heart with sadness or fill it with joyful solace. Perhaps they died together, perhaps one went first and the second followed shortly from a broken heart. Perhaps the first one passed on quietly and the second went on to find happiness again, living out their life to the fullest they could, before joining their love.
That'd be wonderful, wouldn't it?
It would have been, could have been. You and I, we, we were separated too quickly, too drastically. And shame on you, you've left me here alone with only myself for company, me and my thinking.
Yes, graveyards are funny, funny things. Tears water their grass and wildflowers, but peaceful smiles give warmth, give growth, provide life, for the grass and wildflowers.
Funny, funny things.
For those particular sort, we may walk by a cemetery's gates with a faint smile on our lips, may cut a path through in our free time and merely look around. Observe. We remember the people we never met, the souls unvisited, the memories sodden with grief or forgotten altogether. And we smile for them all.
For you, though, for you there's so much more. For you, from you, because of my thinking, I think I've learned to smile again. On my own, without having to think about the muscles it takes to work my lips just right.
I haven't stopped grieving yet, I realize I may never stop. But I think I'm getting better at remembering how to multitask - how grieve for you and live for me at the same time. I'm not there yet but I think, I think, that I've finally stumbled over the path that you'd have shoved me onto yourself, if you could. The nicer one, where happiness might come along, where life still carries on but the heart never forgets. Again, I'm not there yet. But I think I can feel my way there now.
I miss you. I'll never stop. But now, now I think...now I think I'm no longer in a rush to meet up with you again. I'm getting used to the idea of waiting. I can wait. You never said I could but I'm learning patience now. For you. I think I can do that, if only that, for you now.