Graves and Grace

Joyce and I stopped at the cemetery today. We wanted to check on some of the flowers that she had placed up there for Memorial Day. They were digging Mom’s grave when we drove in. She’ll be buried there tomorrow.

I know that the body is not really Mom, not everything that made her the Mom that I loved so much. The thing is, I’m still stuck in the physical world here. Even though we are spiritual beings, we are so rooted in the physical world while we are alive here. I know that the body is not Mom, but it’s how I related to her. So, even though I know that she’s gone, I still have a sort of attachment to the physical form she had. Perhaps that’s why gravestones mean so much to us. Here we are, with no way to relate to the spiritual realm that Mom now inhabits, but that marker, that particular spot, is proof that she once lived among us. It is a reminder of a million and one good memories, and a sharp reminder of all that we have lost.

Mom’s gone, but the legacy, her legacy lives on. I mourn, oh, I surely mourn, but God promises that I will be comforted. Grace for the moment…

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