The Cemetery Visit

My life is forever changed since my youngest son Craig passed away in 1995 at age ten. I share my stories in hopes that I might be of some help, comfort or inspiration to others. I ran across this story recently and felt drawn to share it with you.

The Cemetery Visit   June 1994

Absorbed in reflection, I sat at the grave sites of my Mom and my brother Randy. Reverie and contemplation were suddenly broken by the excited cries of my youngest child. “Mom! Come quick! You hafta see this one!” he shouted, demanding that I come exploring with him.

​As I turned toward him, sunlight pierced my eyes and a playful southerly breeze danced my hair into face tickles. Birdsongs caressed my ears. On the gleaming lake below the hill a small boat passed by.

My soul gently exhaled.

I rose and ambled toward the edge of the country cemetery where nine-year-old Craig was having a merry time reading dates etched on the most ancient markers.
His face was lit with excitement and wonder. His animated form was a bright contrast to the sleeping gravestones. He was a handsome, radiant little boy with sun bleached blonde hair and a dimpled smile. He could charm the pants off anyone! I couldn’t help feeling a rush of joy just at the sight of him.

“Mom, this one says 1895! Wow, that’s so old!” Together we snooped and took turns reading the dates out loud. At the spookiest one we talked about how the chained old gate reminded us of a ghost story that we saw once on TV. I then witnessed a slight nervousness in him as he backed away to get closer to me. 

A smile crossed my heart.

As Craig continued to bounce from one grave to the next I noticed a beautiful Monarch butterfly flitting and swooping within arm’s length of him. It seemed to be drawn to his happy innocence. Like energy attracts the same so it stood to reason that the butterfly would be compelled to be near him.

Before I became a mother I was clueless about the expansive, phenomenal state of love that is the mother-child experience. These kinds of moments of beauty and wonder are the stuff that fill this mother’s heart so full of gladness that, oftentimes, it overflows, spilling from my eyes.

With so much love ~ JoAnn

photo by Tom Norquist