Her headstone came in. They set it today. We weren't able to be there. I was upset about that. But than, after talking to SB she made a valid point. There probably isn't anything really ceremonious about it, it's matter of fact.. they dig a hole, they set the stone, they fill it.. task completed. I'm sure if we were there, they would handle it with more care, but how sensitive can you be about digging a hole. It is beautiful though. J's dad went to check on it, check on her. He took a picture and sent it to J who sent to me. When I found out it had finally come there was a rush of emotions. That seems to be continuity with me doesn't it? Bum rush of feelings? But it is my reality.
My initial thought was excited. How twisted is that? I'm excited that my 7 1/2 month old daughters headstone has arrived... that doesn't seem to fit right, doesn't seem natural. But it's so much deeper than that.. excitement is a terrible word. There really is not a specific word to describe it, at least not any singular word. But there were thoughts, and a process in my mind that helped me to cope with this oncoming event. Besides the fact that this chunk of marble and stone makes it a reality that S is no longer here, I am reaching a point of submission. I am giving in to the fact that she is here... acceptance, submission, agreeance. It is done. It's one less thing that we have to 'deal' with.. it makes it more bearable now to try to live 'with' this. It also sets her place.
Before the stone came her spot was marked, row this column that plot #... It was an ugly heart numbing mound of dirt. The dirt signifying my daughter no longer with me, the mound symbolizing the constant lump in my throat, the marker-less spot showing the whole in my heart. Flowers from her funeral gone, blanket from Christmas removed... But now, now she is marked. Now the world will know where my little girl has been laid to rest. Now I can lay her to rest. This stone, this marble, these dates, all signify so much more than just marking her spot. It allows me to release the breaths I have been holding, the agony I have endured. I know that it won't make the pain go away.. nothing will do that and certainly not a hunk of material. But... it is a beautiful piece of art, hand carved thoughtfully crafted with precision and care. Thoughtful and careful choosing done by J and I. And it turned out perfect. Perfect? Maybe that's not the proper term, but when your world has shifted and your equilibrium has been knocked off balance, you tend to see things in a different light. It is a perfect marker with perfect words with a perfect picture to announce my perfect daughter. I can rest a little easier, breathe a little more steadily. Another piece of me has been pulled a little closer back to its home in my heart.
It's no longer just an eye sore, a mound of dirt, emotionless spot on a hill. It's her spot now, it's my Savanna's spot. No one can take that from me, I can always go there, and there she will be.