For Abby, I found a boxset of The Hardy Boys in hardback. They were Grady’s from when he was a kid. His mom had brought them over when we first moved into this house and he had kept them on a shelf in the den. Abby was just now able to read well by herself and I thought she would love the mysteries and adventure, and even more, reading something that her daddy loved at her age.
Lucy was the hardest to find something of Grady’s that would mean something to her. But digging around in the den, I found a box that he had made in high school woodshop. He had stained it and carved his initials in the top, then attached the lid with hinges. It was hard to part with something that meaningful to him. He had kept it with him all of these years and I knew he was proud of his work even back then. My heart had screamed to keep it for myself, but I knew Lucy would grow to love it and treat it with as much care as he had. I told her we would put it some place safe and when she wanted to look at it, I would help her get it down.
I wanted to find something symbolically Grady, so that whenJacewas older, he would know it was his dad’s without being able to attach a memory of him to it. But I couldn’t find anything that represented Grady without taping a picture to it. And then it hit me.Jaceneeded a picture of his daddy. I had one of my favorite pictures blown up and framed. Ben said he would hang it for me later inJace’sroom. The picture was of Grady sitting on a bench at work a few years ago. His chin was tilted high while he laughed at something off film. His green eyes sparkled with life and his tussled hair blew in the wind. He was breathtaking to me. I had been the one that took the picture. I had taken much younger kids with me to see where daddy worked and brought him lunch. I remembered rushing to capture the shot and falling in love with him all over again in that moment. It was an image of Grady I would always remember because it was so quintessentially him.Jaceneeded to see his daddy like that.
I knew the little ones wouldn’t understand the significance yet, but one day they would and they would learn to appreciate the value of what I gave them. I now had totes for each of them, compiled with gifts from Grady that I planned to give each year.
The totes gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t expected. I had left this house completely untouched after Grady died. His clothes still hung in the closets and his work boots still sat in the mudroom. They weren’t just his earthly possessions, they were pieces of him that I couldn’t imagine parting with.
Well, until now.
Now that his most important memories were packed away and waiting for my children, I thought it might be time. Maybe I could pack up his clothes and give them to someone who needed them. Maybe it was time to put his shoes away and empty the bathroom of his toiletries.
Maybe.
One thing at a time.
The children stared at their gifts for a while, all of them exceptJace, who toddled off to get into the box of toys we kept in the living room. Abby and Blake both cried over their new gifts and soon Lucy joined in.Jacecame back to see what the commotion was about, so I picked him up and cried with him too. I lead my children to the couch and let them all snuggle close.
Yes, things were better, but they were still hard.
A knock at the door forced me to move. Looking at the clock on the wall, I knew it was time anyway. I gave all of thekidskisses and one last hug.
Ben stood on the other side of the door, holding a large bouquet of pale pink orchids. Before I could greet him, he stepped through the open door and crushed me in a hug. He smelled like him, like the scent I’d gotten used to over the last several months, and the flowers he held against my back.
My arms wrapped around his waist and I held on. I had been the rock all morning, the steady one, the one that held us together. But now I needed someone to be my rock. I felt myself crumbling to pieces, sand that washed away every time a new wave rolled in or ash that scattered in the wind.
“How are you holding up,” he whispered against my temple.
“We’ve survived so far.” I took a step back, realizing that embracing Ben might be inappropriate in front of the kids. He held out the flowers and I took them, dipping my head to enjoy their fragrance. “These are gorgeous. Thank you.Orchids?”
He gave me a small smile. “Roses felt… inadequate.”
I didn’t know what to make of that, so I busied myself with putting them in water. Emma showed up a few minutes later and we all piled into my minivan.
The ride to the cemetery wasn’t long enough. Ben drove for me because I didn’t think I had the strength.
I hadn’t been here since they put in the headstone. And the only other times I visited his grave was right before the funeral when I picked the plot out, then of course, during the funeral.
It just didn’t seem right. His body rested here, but his soul was gone. This was an empty place for me. It didn’t hold the Grady I loved and it only represented his death.
I didn’t want to remember him in death.
I wanted to be with him in life.
The cemetery I’d chosen was a beautiful piece of land with huge trees and rolling hills. His plot sat on the top of a hill, nestled into a view of the sunset at the right time of day and overlooking the rest of the grounds.
At some point during the funeral preparation, I had designed his tombstone. I hardly remembered what I’d picked out, but it was simple, stately, to the point but with a little bit of whimsy.
Like Grady.
Katherine and Trevor met us there. We had arranged to spend time around the grave, remembering this day together.
After Ben parked the car and we piled into the wet March morning, I realized how inappropriate it was for Ben to be here.
I looked at my sister in panic, but she was busy talking to Abby.
I took calming breaths and tried to sort out my feelings. It shouldn’t be awkward. We were just friends. I shouldn’t feel the need to justify his presence to my mother-in-law or to my husband’s empty body.
