a hole in the ground

I was ready to move Avalon’s ashes from my bedroom shelf. But I admit, I was hardly ready to place them in a hole in the ground. I was ready to start visiting her gravestone as a way to stay in touch with my grief and remember her, but I was hardly ready to see that beloved box covered in dirt.

It really was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I played “I Will Carry You” by Selah from my car, both my parents and my stepmom were there (that sort of happened coincidentally) and I added some new decorations to the the site. When it came time to place her ashes in that deep, dark hole, I threw myself into my mom’s arms sobbing “I don’t want to put her in there!”. We ended up doing it together. I placed a baby pink rose from the garden on top, and threw in the first handful of dirt. I then asked everyone to go ahead so I could have a few minutes alone.

The cemetery caretaker came, and very apologetically filled in the rest of the dirt and packed it down. He wanted the paperwork (her cremation certificate) but I’d forgotten it.

Honestly, it was brutal. I’ve avoided that final act of placing my daughter in the ground for three years almost… and now I know why.

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Rest in peace, daughter.

Author: Mother of All Things

Mother by fostering, adoption, and marriage... wife to my best friend... Bay area critical care nurse... travel in my blood, reading in my bones, clean food on my mind!

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