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Graveyard Christmas.

via Rebecca Butler on Dec 19, 2012 | 2 comments

“The heart has its reasons, which reason knows nothing of.” ~ Blaise Pascal

I did something random and weird today. I did something I never thought, in a million years, that I would do. I went to the florist at the graveyard where my mother is buried. And then, I bought a fake Christmas tree.

It’s about two feet in height. It’s decorated with red ornaments and gold bows. I paid $55 for the thing. Then I took it to my mom’s grave and staked it into the ground. The ground was hard. It took several tries before I could get it to take root. I was sweating and cursing and then I had to laugh at myself.

What the fuck am I doing?, I wondered. I know my mother doesn’t care. I know she’s passed. I suspect the last thing on her heavenly, omniscient mind right now is whether or not I’m spending my hard-earned yoga money on decorating her gravesite. And yet, I couldn’t stop myself.

I hatched the plan last week when I went to visit her grave, something I do bizarrely often, in my estimation. I often go there when I’m confused, upset, sad, excited, or just bored. Sometimes, my car drives itself. I park and think, I’m here again. I get up and trudge to her site. I know it inside and out now. I could find her site with a blindfold on.

Sometimes, I sit down and just breathe. Sometimes, I pray. Sometimes, I cry. Sometimes, I smile. It really just depends. I swear I can feel her there though. I imagine holding her uber-powerful and serenely-soft left hand, the only limb that had any life in it at the time of her death, and I just swoon.

I miss my mom. Her death was horrific and tragic and far too soon. But she is better off now and I would not want her here suffering as she did in the end. I love her and miss her and I know, I know, I know she is still with me in my heart. Our loved ones are with us still, for this I know.

And I hope she likes the gold bows. She always loved those.

*****

More Mother:

>> Five Amazing Things I Learned from my Mom.

>> Herman Hesse on Trees, Longing & Belonging.

{Random Acts of Love.}

Rebecca Butler

Rebecca Butler lives in Fort Worth, TX, where she fancies herself in a community at the genesis of change. By day, she is a self-proclaimed-intensity-junkie yoga teacher, serving as the lead teacher at a local donation based studio known as Karmany Yoga, a mother and a wife. By night {when the house sleeps}, she is a writer, a dreamer and a poet. Her most meaningful moments are sometimes spent pushing a stroller, listening to her latest muse {from Dr. Wayne W. Dyer to Caroline Myss} and picking up poop from a 90 lb silver lab puppy named Gunner. Her mother passed from ALS (Lou Gehrigʼs disease) in early 2012. Through this journey, Rebecca learned more about life, love and laughter than any book could have possibly taught her. It is in her memory that Rebecca chooses to live each day in Joy… Joy for life – the ups and downs, breaks and bruises, and the glory. Oh, the glory. You can find out more about her teaching & writing at RebeccaButlerYoga.com and connect with her on Facebook, Twitter & on Google+ .