The Stone & The Little Box

                                                     

Back before we released Mike's ashes in the ocean and after I had ordered his gravestone, I was lying in bed one night unable to sleep. As my body tried to relax, my mind revved up. Plans for the ocean memorial, Mom's care, and who knows what else that decides bedtime is the time to consider these things and keep me wide awake. As I tossed and turned, I started thinking that I would like to have something to bury at the cemetery, but what? I didn't like the idea of splitting up the ashes, so not that. I had the little silver medical identification disk and didn't know what to do with it, so that would be one thing. Then my thoughts turned to what I would put that in and what else would go with it. 

The Lord brought to mind a small wooden box that I had carved a design into in art class when I was in middle or high school. It was sitting on my dresser and I decided I'd see what was in it in the morning and drifted off to sleep. The next morning, it was a pleasant surprise to open it and discover small shells that I had collected from our beach trips over the years. I had thought I would make a necklace or earrings some day, but that never happened. Perfect. Those shells symbolized Mike's favorite place to go and our many trips to the ocean together. I collected the ID marker and wrote Mike's name on it. Then I decided I would ask my grandchildren to each add a shell while we were at the beach. I tucked a copy of his obituary inside also.

At the ocean, I took a petal from each of the flowers that we tossed into the water and some from the beautiful arrangement I had in the beach house. Amy's grandma found a shell that looked like an angel's wing and gave that to me to add as well. After fitting the various items into the little box, I took it down to the ocean with me one morning and added a bit of sand - it was now complete. 

I ordered Mike's memorial stone the end of April, but like lots of things during this pandemic, it took longer than usual for the stone to come in from Georgia. Mid-September I received the call that it was ready. On September 21, I met Simmons Monuments at the cemetery to have it installed. I had looked at various designs to get ideas, but nothing seemed right. I drew a few rough possibilities of what I wanted and Simmons refined it.  

As they were installing it, Mr. Simmons said that even though he didn't know Mike, he could tell a lot by his stone. That it tells a story. I was happy to hear that since that's what I was trying to do. Simmons did a beautiful job and I am very pleased with the result. Later that day, I took my Mom to see it. Periodically, she enjoys walking around the cemetery and we hadn't done that in a while. Both sets of my grandparents, my Dad, and many other relatives are buried there. Mike's stone is beside my cousin, Leslie's.

Since Keegan's family had already planned to come the last weekend of September, the timing was perfect for them to be with me to bury the little box by the gravestone. It was a gorgeous day with a Fall-like feel in the air. The stone and the little box were the final pieces of things I had planned in memory of Mike. I had never thought much about a gravestone before, but it is oddly comforting to have something tangible in remembrance. It is a reminder of Mike's life and how with God's help we indeed were able to stay true to our vows, "til death we did part".

It has been therapeutic to have these different memorials. Due to the pandemic, we did things outside of the norm and they really suited us so much better. Having the different pieces spread out has been a blessing as well. Grief is a journey and a process of joy and sorrow which hit randomly and often unexpectedly.

This week, Google photos sent a memory from 2011 of a beach trip Mike and I took less than a year before his tragic accident. We didn't have smart phones at that time, but I guess I uploaded some from our camera, because it has the date stamp on it. That morning it was a joy to see this photo of Mike walking on the beach, although it was a bit melancholy at the same time. That night when I pulled it up again, it brought me to tears. It was if he was walking away from me to his heavenly home and the realization hit all over again that I will never see him again this side of heaven. It is a strange feeling that is hard to explain and hard to fully grasp. I have a dear friend going through her own grief journey and we have been texting and encouraging each other more this week. It is helpful to share especially when the waves of sadness hit hard. Our journeys are different and yet so similar.

The Scripture reference on Mike's stone, Ephesians 6:10, was one of his favorite greetings: "Be strong in the Lord..." One of his friends, Roy, in NC would respond back with the rest of the verse "...and the power of his might!" The day this photo popped up, I learned that Roy too had gone to his heavenly home. Once again they are greeting each other and praising the Lord together. There is much pain and sadness in this world, but for those of us who believe and trust Jesus, there is always victory and a deep abiding joy that this world and it's chaos will never be able to conquer or take away. 

My flowers are still blooming brightly and the ones in the memorial pot are also, so I took a few to the gravestone on Tuesday. I know Mike is not there, but the stone is a reminder that he passed through this life, lived it well, and stayed strong in his faith in Jesus as Savior and Lord. It reminds me of our life together and God's faithfulness to carry us through. A memorial stone.

Ephesians 6:10

"Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might."

If you want to see the post and videos from the release of ashes or the memorial we had in January, just scroll down to previous posts at https://onlyadventures.blogspot.com/