Mark is going to go with me in a couple of weeks for a turnaround trip. I want to show him some of the antiques, check out the cemetery, and show him where part of me is rooted...God help him!
My mom sent me these pictures today that were taken after her headstone was installed. While it's sad, and hard to believe still, I had to smile. She was so proud of her place in the cemetery. She was in a blood battle with one of her brothers for that spot in the family plot. He finally gave in - as long as she went first.
About 5 years ago at her youngest sister's funeral she came up to me and whispered for me to go with her somewhere. We walked over about 10 feet and she pointed down with a big smile on her face - there was a little granite grave marker with her name on it. It was official - the spot was hers. She was so proud. I, on the other hand, was not amused. Now, looking back on it and all of the jokes and comments about "when I die you'll have to drag my body up this steep hill," etc, I think it helped to have been able to laugh with her about it all.
This is just another step in the grieving. The weirdest part is that it just made me realize how much I've been in denial about it all. I still don't feel like I can think about it emotionally - it's all very detached in my head still.
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I do ok for longer and longer periods of time; and then I miss her so much. I had the urge to call her today to tell her about different mundane stuff. I am crying uncontrollably as I write this because I want to see her and talk to her so badly. She was the most important person in my life for so many years and was always there when I needed her. She loved and treasured each one of us so much. I love you, Olivia
I didn't know your mom was named after her.
I really need to go visit my grandmother again soon. They've moved everything out of her apartment now, and she doesn't know.
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