Two Years

My flight to Minnesota on the 7th was uneventful.  Dinner with my sister and checked into the Hilton Garden Inn in Minneapolis.  The Hotwire price was outstanding although the daily parking fee was a bit pricey.  

Mary's family plot is on this side of the tree, pictures taken about noon time. 

On Easter Sunday (8th) I went to Resurrection Cemetery.  The Quirks are buried in a section of the cemetery that does not allow monuments or head stones, only foot stones.  

It still seems unreal that she is dead.  

When I walked up to this foot stone, the tears simply started.  The road is a few feet away so I play our favorite music through the car stereo. And I spend time with her.  I was there from about noon until 5PM or so.  So many thoughts, so many feelings, so much to tell her about. 


And such a huge void I must live with.  


Perhaps because she is buried in Minnesota and I have only been able to visit annually, a whole pile of emotions seems to tumble out of me for several weeks prior to the trip, while visiting and after I get home.  This year was particularly hard because the decision to put down Mary's favorite dog had been hanging over me for months and I finally made the decision just prior to the trip.  


Even today is melancholy as I unpack my clothes and do laundry.  We always had a nice meal celebrating our 'being home' and I will never share that with Mary again. 


I really did not want to see family on April 8, in spite of it being Easter and my birthday.  In Mary's honor, I ordered a ticket to see the current production at the Guthrie. Mary took me there the first time, probably in 1965 just two years after it opened. So I went to the Guthrie that evening and enjoyed a play to honor her words to me "embrace life for both of us now". 


Before I left the cemetery, I stopped to see various family plots. 

My Mom, died April 8, 1988. 

I was in California and getting ready for work--in fact I was in the shower--when the call came from Dad that Mom had died. I packed a bag and headed for Minnesota on the next available plane. 

My Aunt Claire married my Dad's brother older brother John. She died on April 8, 2003. 

Aunt Claire was always a special lady in my life. And, in spite of the short time Mary and I were together (1990-2010 the 2nd time around) and living thousands of miles away, Aunt Claire had earned a special spot in Mary's life too. It happened at Uncle Coleman Connolly's funeral, held just three months after we were married in 1996.  Aunt Claire and Mary spent a large portion of the wake on a couch together discussing life and the family.  Mary often mentioned that touching experience. 

Resurrection Cemetery is located on the bluffs above Augusta and Lemay (not Lamey) lakes

My immediate family is buried in this same cemetery.  John and Claire are on the edge of the bluff, Mom and Dad are set back from the bluff not more than 100 feet. And the Connollys (Mom's family) and Quirks are up on the hill on the far side of the property. 

My space awaits here with Mom and Dad.  I didn't realize how my shadow impacts the meaning of this picture. 

It is truly hard to spend time visiting those who have died.  Its very hard when its a grandparent or parent or an Aunt or Uncle who you loved as part of your family.  


But nothing is comparable to visiting the grave of your spouse.  Nothing.  

Time to go. The tree's shadow has shifted from my noon arrival. 

p