To The Mom

To the Mom Whose Baby is Buried Just Above Mine;

I've sat at my son's grave and looked past his tiny grave marker in to the freshly laid St. Augustine grass planted atop the mound of loose dirt and wondered who you are.  Do you come here and sit often?  I see all the flowers and toys placed lovingly on his grave and know the pain involved in picking out those symbols of your love and sadness, knowing the destination they are intended for.  I know all too well the anger felt in placing those toys on the tiny stone, knowing that all you want to do is to place that toy in their tiny, curious hands.  I know the feeling of hopelessness as you stand in the cemetery, wondering how you are supposed to leave your baby all alone in the old, dark cemetery.  It's a scary place.  They can't be left alone.  You are supposed to protect them.  You also know these thoughts are ridiculous. They aren't feeling scared or alone... Right? You don't know.  You don't know anything.  I can look at the freshly dug grave and feel all of these emotions all over again and I weep for you.  I am so sorry you have to do this. I am sorry any of us have to feel this pain.  Are you okay?  I wish I knew you.  I wish I could ask you if you have people standing beside you.  

I wonder if you ever look over at Matthew's grave and think about us.  Do you wonder if it will hurt less in six years?  Do you wonder what happened to my son?  Did you pick this particular spot because there was another baby here and you wanted to be able to have another child close by?

I'm sorry you've suffered.  I hope you are okay.  I hope you have support.  I pray peace and comfort for your entire family.  Oh, sweet mama, I wish you weren't walking this road, but now that you are, please don't walk it alone.  

Carol