The Neighborhood

This happened:

The other day, I finally screwed up my courage to go see Cory at the cemetery.  I hadn't gone since before the fifth of July, and I was hesitant because I was finally starting to feel better, and going there devastates me pretty much every time.

But like the birds that know when it's time to head south, I just felt that inner nudge that whispered softly, but firmly, "It's time to go now."

The very best thing happened next.
Tim offered to go with me.

Every time Tim has been at the cemetery since the graveside service, it has been a needs-oriented, task-focused, problem solving trip.  He buried Cory's cat, Church.  He installed little nightlights.  He tidied her spot.  Or he has watched me look at her plot, and waited, in case I fell down, figuratively or literally.

This time was different.

We got there, and just sat in the car near her plot for a couple of minutes, neither of us wanting to get out.  As he does most of the time, he waited for my cue.  I finally took a huge breath, and got out.  He followed me over, and stood quietly as I admired the flowers my mother and sister had recently left.  Our eyes worked in tandem as we took in the little bench that obviously no one has sat on for awhile, and the statue of Church that keeps watch over his beloved master for all of time.  The ground is always last.

I turned to him, "Wanna go for a walk?  We need to get water for the flowers, anyway."

"Sure, honey."  he assented.

I led the way.  I always lead the way.  Sometimes I wish I had someone to lead me.  We made our way to the spigot and filled an old  milk jug with water.  I sat it near the main path, and turned to him.

"Hey, have you ever seen the older section?"

"No, where is it?"  he asked.

"Wanna go see?  It's pretty amazing..."  I offered, almost positive he would say no.  His depression has made nearly all of his decisions for the better part of a year, and does not care for walks.

This day, he said yes.  It was early evening, and there was a wisp of a breeze, the air becoming cooler which is the biggest blessing to me.  I will hate the heat of July for many more days; I am certain.  Again, I led the way, winding around markers that tree roots and weather had slightly rearranged.  Some of the markers had been broken over the years, but some descendant had lovingly pieced them together again.  As we walked along, I felt the rough edges and carvings with my hands, pointing out one or another to him, exclaiming at the dates.

He pointed a little ways ahead, "Hey, those look similar to what Cory's will be."

I nodded excitedly.  Me.  Excited about my daughter's monument.  What in the world was happening here?

"Yes!  That's kind of how I decided on it.  I think they are so beautiful.  You know, I spent a lot of days and nights here just wandering around after Cory died.  It seems so twisted, but I felt like I had to get to know her..."  I hesitated, and finally caved to the words on the tip of my tongue, "her new neighborhood."

"Oh, honey..."

"When I'm not over at her spot going out of my mind, I actually like it here.  It feels peaceful, and there's so many stories here."  I offered.

He agreed, "It is peaceful.  Cory would've wanted a place like this.  Not someone where everyone's markers and flowers looked the same.  That's just not who she was."

I nodded.  Walking back, water jug in hand, I said something that surprised me, "Tim, I never thought I'd say this, but I want Cory's monument to be put in.  It's not right that she doesn't have one set up yet.  I mean, I don't want her to even be here, but if she is, I want strangers to walk by and touch her name someday...like we just did."

"Yeah",  he said.  "She certainly deserves that."

We walked silently the rest of the way.  I watered the hanging flowerpots, and wandered to her nearest neighbors left and right, watering theirs, as well.

Somehow, I scrounged up a grin at Tim, "Have to be neighborly."

He smiled.

Finished with the task, we stood to say our goodbyes.  Sometimes I am eager to get away, other times I just want to bring all my art supplies out and spend the day with her.  Or the night.  She was always afraid of the dark.

I watched Tim's face.  I was pretty sure this had been a different sort of visit for him than what he was used to.

Indeed.  I watched on, at a rare loss for words, as he addressed the grass quietly, "Cory, we miss you.  And we love you so much."  "MWAH!"  he declared, putting his left hand to his mouth, and tossing her a kiss.

I looked at him so intently, that he added, "It's the only way I can give her a kiss, now."