Rest

Good news on the job front: 3 call-backs today and an interview tomorrow! I celebrated by purchasing a half-flat of Snapdragons to plant alongside my parents headstone--which is not really a headstone, more like a ground-stone. It always kind of freaks me out when I start looking for their plot--stepping over other ground-stones, keeping my eyes peeled out for theirs. And when I come upon it I am always surprised by how downright simple their plot is. Just their names in very simple script, and underneath "Mom" and "Dad". I feel ripped off by the cemetery sales hawks who descended upon my mother a mere two days after my father passed. I am pretty certain that our family gave that woman an entire list of adjectives that were to be engraved on the stone. No, we didn't? "Why the hell not?" I ask myself. Does "Mom" and "Dad" sum it all up in one, tidy little sales deal? Nothing about "thanks for making your children creep under the Christmas tree after decorating it, making them gaze up at all the beautiful lights and take in that glorious smell of the tree"? Why is there no "Mom and Dad, you made every single one of your grandchildren feel special and loved and part of this glorious, messed-up family"? Or, "Your children can't ever thank you enough for all the sleepless nights you suffered through, awaiting their safe return as each of them, together and on their own, tore the town apart with un-paralleled hell-raising."  My parents were not simple people in life. They were complex in their own way and as a couple. I'm a little pissed that this piece of stone tells none of that.

 I stuffed all the Snapdragons in the oh-so-poor-excuse-for-a-vase at the bottom of the stone and added some soil to it, a little water--perhaps there's a slight chance something miraculous will happen and those Snapdragons will grow tall in that metal canister. I feel sort of like my father; scientifically, with exactness, mixing the soil carefully, adding a bit of manure (always a good time!), and I look at the little makeshift shrine I've created at the base of the stone. Something is missing. Damn! I have forgotten to bring an ACE (yes, the card)...my mother loved playing bridge--oh, and a Starbucks coffee cup, (she was NEVER without her Starbucks coffee). How did I manage to forget all these little objects to place on their tomb?  Better question is, "Why am I spending most of the day flitting around trying to make my parents' resting place look anything BUT restful?" I contemplate what that means..."restful", "resting place". I have no fucking clue. Who is doing the "resting"? If I know my parents, they are definitely NOT resting. My minds eye has them floating around all day long, pulling little pranks on us, slamming doors and misplacing keys and sending little doves to perch around our homes, reminding us...reminding ME, they are still very much a part of this life. This thought soothes me and washes over me like a flood of warm, salty water.