2002-08-12

Thursday night my oldest brother called to let me know this weekend was the yahrzeit for my mother. That means the anniversary of her death and because of the Jewish calendar, it falls on a different date each year. (See this site to learn more.) I made a mental note to buy a candle in the microscopic kosher section at the supermarket as I do every year.

Friday morning, B suggested we drive to DC to visit the grave on Saturday and I immediately knew this was a good idea. I've been to the grave twice--the day she was buried, in 1995, and then in the fall of 1997 for the unveiling of the headstone (that's supposed to happen one year post burial but we didn't get it together until two years and change).

So Saturday morning we tucked Clay into his car seat and set off on the 250 mile drive. Though we have plently of people to stay with, it was to be a one-day up-and-back excursion owing to our need to return for the dogs. (I did, however, investigate kennels, and decide that the next time something like this comes up, that's how we'll handle it--for $38 a night, all three can go and room together in a doublewide.) Midway up, we stopped at a fairly scary McDonalds where I might well be the first person ever to have breastfed a baby.

All went smoothly until we ran into traffic in Virginia and the baby began to scream and I discovered that unlike when he was a tiny thing, it is now possible for me to contort myself in order to nurse him while he's still strapped in. To do so DISCREETLY (i.e., by baring no flesh) is not possible, but frankly I didn't give a shit. I just figure I gave all those other traffic-bound travelers something to talk about.

For years I used to carry a folded piece of paper in my wallet with directions to the cemetery but during some recent purge I guess I got rid of it. So I did a Mapquest search on Friday and printed the directions but neglected to actually pick them up from the printer. So from the road I called my friend E, whom we were going to visit after the cemetery, and had her get me the directions. We found the place without incident but before going in, visited a nearby shopping center to use the restroom. In this shopping center was a florist and B asked whether I wanted to buy some flowers. I said no. Then he urged me to and all three of us went in. They had some lovely sunflowers; I bought two for the grave and two to take to E.

The cemetery was so much smaller than I remembered. We parked in the general spot where I thought her grave was and found it right off and I put rocks on the headstone. I had not shed any tears until I read the epitaph:

It was the grandmother part that got to me. I took Clay from B's arms and told him a little about his grandmother and how much they would have loved each other. And I said the same to B, how I wished she could have met B, how happy she would've been for me, that I found someone so good. How he would've liked her, how nice she was, how supportive and non-judgmental, how she would've been a great mother-in-law. I put the sunflowers on the headstone and then we left.

At E's house we grilled steak and sausages and made a big salad. E marveled over Clay. Her own son just graduated from college and I asked whether it had gone quickly, the time from when he was Clay's age. "I didn't even blink!" she said.

So as to get home at a reasonable hour, we had to eat and run. It was hard to tear the baby away from E. "He's so cute," she kept saying. Finally, we loaded him and ourselves into the car. "He's adorable. And I don't even like babies!" E said as we backed out of her driveway. And I said, "Neither do I!"

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