What do you do the day you pick out your mom’s headstone? She didn’t want to do that part when we went to the funeral home a few years ago to make her arrangements. She said I would have to figure that out. At the time you’re talking about a thing that can’t be comprehended. When you take your mom to the funeral home in the first place it’s a surreal idea. We went to lunch. Shopped. Went on a scenic. Selected a casket. That was strangely matter-of-fact. The pink one of course. And now that we have reached the headstone part I was wishing we had already done that. But who wants to see their name engraved on a slab of marble? It’s incomprehensible. We deny that we are that vulnerable to this life. To death. To eternity.
So today I took the day off work. I met my beautiful niece at the funeral home. We were assigned homework by the funeral director — he says go out to the cemetery and see what you like or don’t like. We declined.
We know pink stone might appeal to her but somehow it didn’t look right. They use inks on those. We looked through catalogs. Talked about options. Sizes. Shapes. Colors. Embellishments. We made jokes. We didn’t cry. We talked about Bling. Rhinestone? Bedazzling! We looked through stock photos and how to incorporate the shofar.
We picked fonts and scripts. We picked a butterfly, a rooster and hen, and an eagle. We picked black granite filled with sparkles. We chose an oval inside a rectangle for In Loving Memory Janice “Gooie” Brown March 6 1942 – October 16, 2018. And there will be a concrete base where the shofar can be placed.
We dropped off keys to the house for the new owner. I headed back home and so did she. I drove in the bright blue sky sunshine along roads edged with snow, Lake Samish a picture postcard.
I went to the Art Market to get some of my pieces to show at the Art Walk Friday. I went down to the bay and picked up rocks and shells and kelp and feathers. When I got too cold I went to my favorite cafe and had matcha and açaí bowl. I’ll head to hobby lobby and try to get everything for the art show. I’ll go home and prepare my art for showing.
I’ll go out to dinner with my husband and work on my Etsy store.
That’s what you do when your mom dies and you have to keep on living – without her. And you have to breathe and love and live and experience it all.
©Belindabotzong2019