Visitors to Your Grave

Cemetery where DC widow blog writer Marjorie Brimley buried husband Shawn

The other day, as I was driving to Costco, I decided to stop at the cemetery. I was hungry when I got there, and so I sat down at Shawn’s grave and ate Sun Chips and told him about what was happening in my life. I don’t know why I do this.

As I was talking, I saw a man in the distance. He had on a cowboy hat and a large beard. He was probably my age. He seemed to be looking for something on the ground. Maybe someone’s name? Maybe something else? What was he doing, I wondered? I sat at Shawn‘s grave for a long time that day. It was cool and beautiful and sunny and the sky was so blue I just wanted to stay there even though I’m not really sure why. And so I watched this man – the one with the cowboy hat – walk around and around the cemetery, looking for whatever it was he was looking for.

After a while a woman came up to him. She was older; maybe she was his mother. She was also looking for something. They came closer to each other and seemed to discuss something, though it was unclear what. I saw the woman point to the praying hands statue, and I looked to where she was pointing. It’s my favorite part of the cemetery because it’s where my children like to play when they come to their father’s grave. But I was alone that day, so I hadn’t gone over to the praying hands. I just sat at Shawn’s grave and I watched them for a while. I heard her say to him, “I think it’s over here somewhere,” and then she pointed at some of the graves. They went over to the spot where she had pointed and looked around. Then they spoke again. They walked around for a little while longer, the man saying nothing and the woman sometimes saying, “maybe over here.” Finally I saw them point up to the office at the top of the hill. They walked towards it.

It was clear that the man and the woman were looking for a grave, one that they couldn’t find. How strange, I thought, to come out on a Monday afternoon on the prettiest day of the year to visit a grave that you can’t find. I suppose that’s how it is when people have been gone a really long time. If you asked me to find my mother’s grave, I might be able to do it but I might also get lost. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to her grave.

It made me think about how we remember those we’ve lost. I felt sad thinking about how I come to Shawn‘s grave less frequently than I once did, and how maybe someday I’ll only come a few times a year. It made me sad to imagine that his grave might be somewhat forgotten as time passes. Even by me.

I don’t know what to do about this exactly. I want to believe that we never ever forget the people we’ve lost and we always go and visit their graves with the same amount of regularity. But this man and woman at the cemetery showed me otherwise. As a person is gone for longer and longer, the memory of that person begins to fade and those of us left behind often do things, like visit the cemetery, less frequently.

I don’t think that the cemetery is the only place nor the best place to remember Shawn. I think the best place to remember Shawn is in his children’s eyes, as corny as that sounds. But it’s true, his greatest legacy are the children. Shawn’s friends also remember him. And of course his family mourns him. His colleagues still sometimes recall the work he did in his life. But no one goes to his grave anymore besides me. Or at least no one goes with any regularity besides me.

So what does it mean that I am already going there less frequently than I once did? I don’t know. There are no straightforward answers. Maybe I miss him less than I once did. But that doesn’t mean that his life wasn’t important and then our life together wasn’t real. But this fading – I think that’s just how grief often works.

For now, I’m simply glad I chose to bury Shawn near Costco. I didn’t plan to come out to the cemetery that day. I was simply headed to to get some food. My kids needed Cheez-Its and granola bars and many more gallons of milk. It was spring break for me as a teacher and since the pandemic meant I couldn’t go anywhere, I figured I’d go to Costco. And when I was driving to Costco I thought, “I want to be at the cemetery.” That was it. There was no grand plan.

I don’t often make plans to visit Shawn’s grave anymore. I go in the regular moments, usually when I’m just driving to Costco and I think of it. It’s a strange thing, really. This person who I loved so much for so many years – I don’t think about him in every moment anymore. But when I do remember him in those in-between moments, like that day at the cemetery, I try to feel some degree of peace about it.

Someday, we’ll all be forgotten. Until then, I’m glad there are pieces of Shawn that remain with me, something that pulls me back to that cemetery on a still somewhat regular basis. And when I’m gone, and my children’s children are also gone, and no one remembers anything about any of our lives, I think that’s okay. That’s life, isn’t it? Maybe, in fact, it’s the greatest endorsement of the importance of living a full life today, rather than worrying too much about our legacy after we die.

No matter what, I was happy to sit on that hill on a beautiful day, listening to the sound of the geese and remembering the life that Shawn lived.

It was a good one.

10 Replies to “Visitors to Your Grave”

  1. My husband’s ashes are in a drawer in his desk, along with our wedding rings, his glasses, some funny cards my daughter (his step-daughter) made for him when she was little, several letters of thanks from his former pre-nursing students , and his Luddite flip phone (just in case.) He always joked about wanting to be mulched around the roses, but I’m glad I didn’t do that because they all bit the dust after the big freeze here in Texas. What I’m trying to say is, he is not there. What made him “him” departed with his last breath. I keep my husband in my heart and can visit him anytime in my thoughts, as you can and do with Shawn. That’s all that matters.

    1. You’re right, of course. I love the cemetery, and it’s not the most important place to remember Shawn. I love that your husband wanted to be “mulched around the roses!” That’s awesome.

  2. Ironically, I’m visiting my parents and we were in the cemetery looking for relatives of generations past in Corvallis just two days ago. Also we made a few passes by your Dad’s house. Thought of you all. ❤

    1. Oh, I love this! xo

  3. The times we talked about our afterlife plans my husband always said he wanted to be cremated and his ashes scattered. I always told him no, because I was going to be mad at him for leaving so I was going to bury him in a cemetery this way I could go yell at him for leaving me. This was always said with a laugh and a smile.
    Well, he was cremated, and I did scatter his ashes on the mountain I can see from our home. And if I want to yell at him for leaving me, I can do so from my back yard.

    1. Oh, this is so beautiful and sweet and even a little funny, too! I love that you remember your husband every day in this way. 🙂

  4. Michael Zoosman says: Reply

    Thank you for sharing this, Marjorie. May Shawn’s loving presence continue to bless you…

    Mike

    1. Thanks Mike!

  5. It’s interesting – my husband was insistent all our time together that he wanted to be cremated. I really hated that idea but he always made me promise (fyi – we were not always talking about death and cremation!!) He died of a sudden heart attack at the age of 51, and after my attempts and then all of the different EMT’s and doctors’ attempts to revive him failed, I sat with him for a long time in a room in the ER – just looking at him in disbelief about what had just happened in the previous two hours. But then it occurred to me the longer that I was with him that he wasn’t there anymore. His body was his earthly “shell”, but he wasn’t there anymore. I understood why he didn’t want to be buried, and why it was OK to cremate a body that was no longer “inhabited”. My kids and I know that he and our loved ones are around us – that heaven is around us. We constantly feel his presence and make observations (or jokes) about things he is responsible for or makes happen. Just because you don’t go by to visit a grave with his name on it as often as you once did, he knows you are thinking about him without being at his final resting place. He is probably glad that you are not constantly hovering over a grave, but are out living a beautiful and full life – pandemic and all!

    1. I love this – thank you for sharing! What a beautiful way to remember your husband…and for me to remember Shawn, too.

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