Yesterday evening, after I got off work, me and my dear Aunt Momo went up on the cemetary and decorated the graves.
My maternal grandparents, Arthur and Corma Preece, my sweet Uncle Kenny Preece (always Keni to me) and my beloved mom and dad are buried on a little hill, behind where me and the girls currently reside.
My mother and her siblings were raised up this holler, and played on the very hill on which my family members now eternally rest. My mother was born in a front room of the family homestead, which is currently owned by my Aunt Momo and her husband Uncle LuLu.
It is of much comfort to look up there, each morning when I get up, and each evening before I go to bed, and know that they are resting peacefully. I know that what made my parents and family members who they were, their very souls, are not there, but for me to be able to see their final resting place gives me peace and comfort. Some understand that, some do not. But, that is okay, as long as I understand is really what matters.
I do not visit my mom and dad very often, usually once or twice a year. It hurts so bad, to actually walk up there, and see their names on the tombstones. It brings back such painful feelings of loss and loneliness that I avoid the trip as much as I can. But, on memorial day, I do make sure to put bright new flowers on all their graves, and say a little prayer to let them know that although it is rough, and some days I feel that me and the girls are about done for, that we will all three be okay.
I like to think I come from good stock...on both my mom and my dads side, and that as long as I put my mind to it, and really work at it, the girls and I will be just fine. We have each other, and the Lord is with us, and that will get us through.
But, there are days I would love to talk to mom and dad, to hear their voices again, their laughs, and see their bright smiles.
I think that is what I miss most....