There has been a lot of stuff going on here at Maison Brinkley, mostly pulling together loose ends and trying to go into the fall season with some idea of accomplishment. There has been some thought given to how I want to spend my time and what I want to be doing.
There is one thing that I was determined to accomplish this summer. My parents passed on a LONG time ago -- my mother in 1996 and my dad in 2000. When my mother left us my father couldn't travel back to our hometown to bury her. So, the plan was to cremate and we would hold on to her until my father passed and then we would commit them together. That is what we did except for one small thing -- it took me until August 4, 2017 to actually see the plan to fruition. Now, before you decide that I was just lazy or uncaring let me explain. They had bought burial property in 1957 in San Antonio but my mother always disliked it. My father always wanted to be buried in the family cemetery in Harper, Tx -- the one you have to use dynamite to dig a grave. Our other option was a military cemetery since my dad was a WW2 vet. My cousin, a pastor, was supposed to do the honors but unfortunately he was killed in a car accident about six years ago. I was very conflicted over choices -- none of them felt right -- enough so that I got stopped every time I tried to move forward. After our brief vacation to San Antonio, I had sort of decided to place them in the military cemetery in San Antonio but I couldn't get the military to answer the phone. As I sat and waited for the military it occurred to me what my problem was. I am an only child. I lived all my life around my parents, they even moved to Ft.W to be with me and the kids. I couldn't imagine burying them somewhere away from me and I will never move back to San Antonio. So, when that light bulb came on I immediately made a call to the local, large, heavily wooded cemetery that is just down the road from my house. Appointments were made, plans set, our dear rector agreed to do the religious honors and before I knew it, it was done. We chose a spot in the curve of a clump of oak trees with a lovely shaded canopy. It is in a new section so it is still being developed and it is still a little new looking but it won't stay that way for long. The spot is at the top of a small hill with a sweeping view of the rest of the cemetery, looking one way, and town looking the other. It is green and lush and the most peaceful place I have ever seen. It was a private burial with just immediate family present. It was perfect, it was just what they would have wanted.
I was surprised to discover that even though it took me seventeen years to bury my parents the feelings were the same as if it had just happened. I didn't expect that.
|Entrance to Greenwood Cemetery, Fort Worth, Texas|
So, that took up some of July and August. There was a lot of soul searching, it was gut wrenching, there were no tears, however, but great relief at finally paying my parents the respect they deserve. We decided to also make all those decisions in regards to ourselves for our children -- everything bought, paid for and planned out. We will be buried in the same plot as my parents, the headstone will already be there and all they will have to do is make the call. Part of the reason I had so much trouble is because my parents were not sure what they wanted even though they had purchased property. I spent all this time trying to get into their heads. When I finally came to the conclusion I did, I knew it was the correct decision because peace just washed over me.
On that note, I intend to move forward into the autumn of the year with my sights set on new interests, bringing back old interests and trying to be a better me.