Stealing flowers from the cemetery

Jack has been looking forward to going to the small farmer's market not too far from our home (maybe a 10 minute drive) that is once a week. I promised him that once school was out, we would go. And, so one evening this past week, we were able to go. Just me and Jack. (He was thrilled, and even declared it to be "special time just for us.")

On the way, we passed a cemetery. Jack instantly noticed it. It is one of those newer ones that has all flat stones. What caught his eyes were all the flowers and flags. It was quite a sight just after Memorial Day. On the way to the Farmer's Market, we talked about cemeteries -- what they were for, etc.

After our trip to the Farmer's Market (where we got homemade rolls and a cookie, as well as some kettle corn), I decided that perhaps we would stop at the cemetery.

As we pulled up, I tried to remember which particular drive I wanted to go down. I wanted to take Jack to a particular area. And, to my amazement -- I actually remembered the right way. (There are a few entrances all on the same side.)

I took Jack to the small stone that was difficult to find, with grass trying to grow over it. I showed him the stone that had a depiction of a puppy under a tree and with dates that were not even two week apart. I explained to him that sometimes when babies are born, they are just too sick. And, sometimes -- even babies die. Jack has grown in the past year to have a better understanding of death. I'm sure he still doesn't understand it really, but he doesn't go crazy at the mention of it anymore. He takes more comfort in the idea of Heaven. Anyway, I went on to tell him that before his Daddy was born, his Daddy had a brother who was just too sick, and who went to Heaven when he was just a little baby. Jack looked very seriously, and we talked a bit about it. Jack felt bad that Daddy didn't get to play with his brother. And, then Jack was ready to move on. He asked to see where Daddy's grandpa was, since I had mentioned he was there as well.

We moved to that stone, and we talked some about how this was his great-grandpa, but he went to Heaven long before Jack was born. We also then talked about why some of the stones had two people's names on them. It made me nervous to explain to Jack why one of his great-grandmother's names was on that stone, even though she is still living. But, he was okay with my explanation, and he thought it was nice that people wanted to be by each other since they were married.

And, then Jack decided he wanted to walk some more. He asked about people's names, and if they were married. He wanted to know which side was the girl and which side was the boy (if I hadn't read the names to him yet). He wanted to know if both people of a married couple had passed away or if one was still alive. It was kind of surreal how calmly he was talking about it, considering the outburst he had had at the beginning of religious education this past year when Fr. Dan had come and talk to his class about Heaven.

While we were walking, Jack found two pink carnation blossoms (well -- not real ones...more like ones off of a Walmart graveside floral arrangement) far from any of the headstones. He picked them up, and I looked around to see where they might belong. I said, "Go put them over there by Dorothy, since she has ones that look like that" (I had already told him her name from her grave stone), even though I couldn't see any empty spots in the pink carnation heart by her stone. He looked disappointed. I figured he was hoping to take these home with him.

Finally, as he begrudgingly set them by her stone, he looked up at me and said, "But what about Dad's brother and grandpa? They don't have flowers." I thought for a moment about this, and then decided that if they really did belong to Dorothy's arrangement (though it didn't appear they did), I thought she wouldn't mind. I told Jack that it was a nice idea.

He carefully set one flower top each on his uncle's tiny stone and next to his great-grandpa's name on the large stone nearby, as he then jumped away toward the van, declaring that we would have to "go tell Dad who we visited."