Infinite Love
Today is Thomas’ birthday. Andy and I drove to town this morning to choose a scented candle and a card to display with his photo. We also bought flowers for his grave.
It’s been 25 years since Thomas died. You’d think the memories would have faded by now. But each detail of that difficult time is etched in my memory, never to be weathered away.
Unfortunately, the words on Thomas’ headstone are weathering away. The gold gilt lettering is disappearing. It needs touching up.
It took us a long time to decide on a headstone for Thomas’ grave because it seemed like a very important decision. The headstone would be the book cover of Thomas’ short life. For months, we wandered around cemeteries searching for ideas, our hearts aching every time we came across another baby grave.
Eventually, we decided that Thomas should have a marble headstone and a sandstone gravestone.
I rang a stonemason, hoping to arrange the creation of the stones. The man who answered the phone cut me off as I described what we had in mind. “We’re not taking on any new business at the moment. We’re too busy.” He brushed me off with brusque words which wounded my fragile mother’s heart. Surely he knew how painful losing a child can be? Arranging a headstone wasn’t easy. I had hoped to be treated gently with empathy instead of as a business opportunity the man didn’t need.
We risked ringing another stonemason. When asked how much the headstone would cost, he said, “What is your budget?” When we told him, he said with great kindness he could produce what we wanted for that price. The headstone was Thomas’ first birthday gift.
The words on the new stone glimmered gold in the sunshine as I stood before it. I thought, Whenever someone visits the cemetery and stops at Thomas’ grave, they’ll now know that his life was important even though it lasted only one day.
The headstone words could disappear with time, but my love won’t.
Our love for our children will never fade. Nor does it remain the same. Love grows even if we’re separated.
That’s how it is. That’s the way our hearts are. They were created by God for infinite love.
Thomas’ Love Stories
I’ve written many love stories for Thomas. Here are two of my favourites. Maybe you’d like to read them.
My Starring Role
Years ago, I was Marcia Brady and I had two younger sisters, Jan and Cindy. It was the seventies and we were children and we all pretended we were Brady Bunch girls. Every afternoon, we’d turn on the TV eager to watch the latest Brady Bunch episode or the latest repeat. We must have watched each one a hundred times. We soaked them all up and we longed to be child stars. Occasionally, I thought I might prefer to be a famous singer rather than a TV child actress. When I wasn’t watching The Brady Bunch, I was absorbed in
Ironing Away the Pain
“Are you okay?” she asks. “No, I am not!” My words whip her in the face, and it crumples as she takes two steps back from the ironing board. I don’t care. I push past her and out of the back door. I fling myself face down upon the grass beneath a tree. I take a sobbing breath that hurts my ribs, and the pain rises up from deep within me. It gushes out, wave after wave, never-ending. And then I become aware of someone standing over me. She is holding out a cup of tea. Tea? I ignore it.