Jairus's gravestone had been installed.
We were glad to get this news as we ordered it weeks ago and were anxious for the process to be over. The idea of an unmarked grave does not sit well with me. And we wanted to process of burial to be finalized by getting a stone placed for our son. More hope for healing.
We struggled with the punch of reality in seeing his name in print on a gravestone. With the finality of knowing that the marker will be there everyday forever, and our son will be away from us every one of those days until we join him in Heaven. More heartbreak and broken dreams.
The stone turned out very nicely. Mark wrote the epitaph and we chose the granite together. I love seeing his name in writing, it is so seldom I get the chance. But it makes me cry that the writing I currently see is just a reminder of his departure from us.
Soon grass will grow and it will look as though he's always been buried there. I both anticipate and dread that as well.
But one day, this tiny grave will be as empty as Jesus' tomb on Easter Sunday. Because one day, Scripture says, "According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever." (1 Thessalonians 4:15-17)
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| Easter at the cemetery Talking to the kids about the resurrection of the dead |
The stone is beautiful, Meg. And so is your family. Thanks for sharing your heart.
ReplyDeleteWe stopped by last night. I didn't know Jairus had a stone yet. We both remarked in kind of a pleasant way, like, "Oh! His stone is here!"
ReplyDeleteThen I read it. And I looked at his name in print. And for me, too, the reality came crashing in. I wept into that reality last night as I stood over his little piece of earth. I miss him for you, Meg.
I love it, and I love the epitaph.
ReplyDelete"Soon grass will grow and it will look as though he's always been buried there." Oh Meg. No words, just tears and thoughts for you and Mark.
ReplyDelete