Dance Like No One is Watching

Today on the way home from getting Jake a haircut, I asked him, as I do every so often, if he wanted to go by the cemetery.  Immediately, he said, "No!", and then softened it with a, "not right now.  Maybe some other time."

That was more than ok with me.  I didn't want to go see her final resting place, how the earth had robbed me of my baby and swallowed her whole, any more than he did.  I felt obligated to at least offer him the opportunity often.  He almost always says no.  His steadfast logic, so in step with his quiet, no nonsense personality is this, "Part of me wants to go, but part of me doesn't.  And I know that most times I go, I feel worse afterwards.  Cory wouldn't want that."

My eleven year old is more adult than I am.  He is, as of yet, unaffected by all the guilt and misgivings we pile on ourselves about a situation out of our control.  He lets the love he shared with his sister shine through, pure and unmarred, guiding his decisions about how and where to spend time with her.

I, personally, can only think of one time I felt anything but horror beside her spot.  I visited daily just after the accident, only able to get through the experience by doing it the same way each time- parking in the same spot, playing her a song when I got there, and a song when I left.  On this one particular afternoon, I just felt like Cory wanted happy music.

 I put my I-phone on shuffle to our Making Dinner playlist, and crept up to the edge of her still dirt covered plot to see how it would feel, listening to our dance music in a place such as this.  It strangely felt better than I would have thought, so I cranked it.  Before I could think about what I was doing, I was dancing beside Cory's grave to "Booty Bounce", my steps lighthearted and joyous as they always were when I was in my favorite room of the house with my favorite person in the world.  Just as I started to really work it, I glanced up and saw people rolling along the narrow lane, their necks craned in my direction, confused and bewildered.  Mortified, I sat down on the bench so fast, my blood sugar dropped, and killed the music.  My cheeks red, and my body warm- it was usually so cold in this place until the wailing started-I smiled looking down at her. 

"Hahahahaha!!!  Mom, you're so crazy!  I love you!", said the pile of dirt.

I shook my head, unable to resist smiling at this girl, no matter what she said, "I love you, too, Cory Girl.  Only for you, Cory Girl, only for you..."