Peace amidst the gravestones ....

 This morning I decided to forgo the mess in my kitchen, and to head out to Balsam Bay Cemetery. It is this thing I do every year, on the anniversary of my Mum's death. In life, I made it a habit of buying my mum roses. She loved them. Yes, my dad bought flowers for her too (I realize he really was a romantic at heart) but I loved buying her roses, and seeing her face light up when she would undo them and smell the beautiful scent. I think I started doing this in 1976 when I began working and had money to spend for flowers. ANYHOW, today is the 24th year marking my mum going to be with Jesus. So I got in my vehicle, went and ordered a dozen roses from the florist in Selkirk, and proceeded out to Balsam Bay.   (okay I have to say this... originally I went to Selkirk Safeway as I usually get the roses there - but today I walked in and there was not a flower to be bought!  I almost wept - and then I remembered the florist - Victoria's ... and went, parked in front, phoned her, and within minutes she brought the flowers and left them outside the door.  Tears averted)

I like going alone. The drive is peaceful. My thoughts are many. How many times have I driven Highway 59 to then road 100 and down to the cemetery. So many times. You see, many of my THOMAS extended family are buried there. That is where my husband joined my brothers and Dad to dig Mum's grave. Sandy soil makes it a little easier I think, as long as you can keep it from falling in. 24 years. So much has happened. I was not quite 38. Too young!! And she passed away a the week before Mother's Day. 

I don't go out on Mother's Day when normally people go - but instead I go out on the anniversary of her passing. May 5th.  Going alone gives me the freedom to let the tears fall as they may. I know, it is not her that I am going to see. But I am going to honour her memory and the legacy she left.

You know - I am not sure I could have ever had a better Mum. And to be honest, I don't think my dad would have been the man he was without my Mum as his companion.

I pulled up beside old St. Luke's church. Boarded shut, this church still brings awe out in me. I love the structure. The first and only time I was ever in the church was the funeral of my cousin Mundy Thomas who was in a car full of guys, hit by a drunk driver just over the hill from where Balsam Bay is. I remember going through the church, walking by caskets. Friends whose lives were cut off in the prime of their life. And then, I stood outside in the cemetery grounds with hundreds of others, listening to the funeral over a loud speaker. Now this church holds that sad memory ... as well as many other memories both joyous and sad within its boarded walls. A beautiful old church - closed and nailed shut.

Getting out of the car it is just a short little walk, through the gate and to my left - to where my Dad chose the plot area to bury Mum, not knowing that the next year, the boys would be digging the hole that we laid his body in right beside Mum's.

I walked to the gravesite. Took out the flowers that were put there likely by my sister Mary-Ann last fall and had graced their gravesite over the winter, and then cut the roses and put them into the vase with water, positioned in the middle of their headstone. It is a yearly ritual. Roses for Mum. A ritual of honour.  Memories came to mind, including the time I bought her 21 yellow roses on my birthday - for each year of my life!!

Even when Mum when blind, she still felt and smelled the roses. I won't ever forget that. So many memories - of growing up, teen years, her designing and sewing my wedding dress, her holding the children when they were born. Her singing to me, and singing to my babies. Her baking - often just winging it (which I do too). Her gentle voice telling me "Honey it will all be okay." .... Her love for cashews, and chocolate (boy am I my mom's girl or what) and her love for the Bible. Seeing her in quiet time - those memories are deeply ingrained. Memories are laced with so much love, gentleness, kindness, generosity and so much grace!! Memories.

After leaving their gravesite, I wandered around the cemetery. The cemetery is full of family - especially in the section Mum and Dad are buried in. Family - Including my Grandma and Grandpa Thomas - Henry George and Mary-Ann;

as well as my Grandma Thomas's parents, who are my Great Grandparents - Alex and Matilda Anderson. There are many aunts and uncles buried there. I walked to each one - and memories galore filled my mind. I loved those men and women who spoke into my life as loved aunts and uncles. 

And then I proceeded to walk through the other parts - where many other relatives are buried.

The sun shone. There was a cool breeze blowing off the ice still on the lake. (the cemetery is lakefront). I heard something and saw a big bush bunny. There was nothing but the stillness and the sound of my feet walking on leaves left from last fall. The cemetery has so many little gravesite right at the beginning where you enter. It is with sadness that my eyes take them in, knowing that families lost many children during those years. Even my Grandma and Grandpa Thomas lost one of their sons as a tiny boy. So much grief and death. So very much.

I realized  that I come from a long legacy of faith in Jesus Christ. I had known that  my Grandma and Grandpa Thomas had loved Jesus, and today realized that my  grandma's parents loved Jesus too. On my great grandma Matilda's headstone - it said YE MUST BE BORN AGAIN and on my great grandpa Alexander it said BY GRACE ARE YE SAVED. Strong legacy of faith that can be traced via gravestones in a country cemetery.   (The other thing I realized is that my granddaughter Matilda Joy comes from a great grandma, and a granny (my mom's mom) who were both called Matilda). 

It is quiet as I walk. Just me and the LORD in this place. There are so many unspoken memories, unspoken stories that are marked by grave markers, some of which are unreadable. The silence of this is deafening. 

And in the midst of it, is peace. 

Peace.
Perfect Peace.

I know where that comes from - it comes from the hope knowing that when one dies in Christ, with your life firmly rooted in Jesus salvation to us - that brings a hope and a peace and even eventually joy. I know that I go here to honour the memory of my mum. I know one day I will see her again, and my dad, and my aunts, uncles and cousins that knew the Lord Jesus Christ. I believe that yes, we grieve when we know a loved one is dying, or has died ... we love deeply this side of heaven. We are made for community and family - and we love deeply .... but oh what a day that will be - when we are all with Jesus. I truly believe as much as we think this life is the best - we are just passing through. And the best is yet to come!

with love,

j

ps.

Someone asked me today if I talk to my parents when I go to the gravesite. Today I just said again, Mum, I love you. I have also asked Jesus if he does special requests ... and if he could give my Mum a big hug from me, and just tell her how much I love and miss her. Not sure if he does - but I like to think he does. <3 div="">

A song is playing in my memory .... it was sung by those of us gathered around the gravesite as the boys, and then other relatives took the shovels and threw the sand onto the casket, covering up the hole. The song is a favourite of mine, and I think I will always think of it, with the sound of some of the relatives, who start it off while standing around when we lower caskets ... take a listen - WHAT A DAY THAT WILL BE ... I believe that.

Are you ready for that day?