I drove my mother to the cemetery. I hate coming here but for her it is a sort of ritual, it is important for her to come and talk to my father, see how the grave is clean and clear of any weeds or dirt.
“Do you know they break into here and steel all sorts of things from the graves? Anything in metal or marble has been taken. That is why I wanted your father’s grave to be simple, just a plain stone”
“I wish he wasn’t here. I can’t bear the thought of his body being under there….”
“It is good for me to know that I can come here and be with him for a few minutes when I need to.”
“I’m sorry mum, I understand you need this. But please don’t ask me again to bring you – for me this is a nightmare, I can’t stand the thought of dad dead, this place makes me face that reality.”
I need her to understand that we don’t all deal with pain and loss in the same way. I don’t want her to talk about dad all the time, especially not in the ‘if he were here’ kind of conversation. I need my time to deal with this, to grieve how I need to grieve… I am not sure she has room in her heart to understand that.
As we leave through the gate, I hope that I never have to come back.
Free write for Free Write Friday, inspired by the title “The Ivy Covered Gate”.
Here is your FWF prompt…
Select a title from the list below as your inspiration:
“Phone Call at Midnight”
“The Green Years”
“The Human Zoo”
“The Fires of Spring”
“The Ivy Covered Gate”