Like everyone who is or has been on their own personal journey through grief, my life (and my family's life) has been like one long and extremely well-built emotional rollercoaster. Health issues, loneliness, and miscellaneous life events have taken their toll on different members of my family. I've kept a pretty close eye on what's going on in the home front, but being so far away I can only detect so much...and while I love my brother and sister, they will never be accused of being "keen observers." The part that made me worry was the hint of sadness that seems to accompany every single phone call....So I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to be walking into.
Let me first tell you that I don't like to be a grown-up. While there are times in my life when I put my big girl pants on and act the part of the adult, I usually do so with a whole lot of internal kicking and screaming. This trip was definitely going to force me into the role of an adult, and I was dreading it. Emotionally ready? No. And I was right.
I knew it was coming. There had been talks of it for months so when I heard the plans, less than 24 hours after landing, I wasn't completely surprised. My father informed me that we would be spending the next morning touring cemeteries. Yes, that's what I said. I suppose the better term for it would be "checking out" cemeteries. He had done his google research and now wanted me to help him choose where both he and my mother would be buried. The urgency in the request shook me to the core. Why now? I spend my days talking to people about end-of-life and the need to plan, but the need to get this done quickly was too much for even this professional to handle.
So I woke up that morning, got ready and proceeded to check out local cemeteries (like we were looking for apartments). We walked the grounds, talked to the staff, observed the monuments. Some of the conversations bordered on entertaining, some just sad. Somewhere near the statue of the Pope I found myself shutting down....like when you're in an argument and you don't want to participate anymore so you just give the answer you think will end the fight. Towards the end, after 3 hours (yes, 3 hours) and a dozen or so "Would your mother like this?" I was near tears. And that's when it got bad. My father told the office worker that he needed information about 1 specific plot (a nice one by the tree, on the back side of the statue of the Pope because who the hell would want the Pope staring at them for all eternity?) that he needed the information because I was only in town for a few days and we needed to make decisions. I quietly excused myself.
I don't sit around every night lamenting the lack of a soulmate. But there have definitely been moments in my singlehood where I wished more than anything that I was in some type of committed relationship. This was one of those times. I wished I had someone standing next to me in that cemetery office, someone to wrap their arms around me and hold me together as I fell apart, someone who would face the day with me, someone who could pick me up after life knocked me off my feet. Someone who would be there....just in case I lost someone else close to me. I was envious of those around me who had that person and I wasn't a big fan of myself either (because there HAS to be something wrong with me). Yep, this was definitely one of those moments. The downside of being single. I guess it's time to start picking up random guys off the street.....
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