The Burden

Crape Myrtle

Went with friends to visit my wife’s grave yesterday. We hung a little decorative pendant by the headstone. It was made by her Ya-Ya’s at their last gathering. There are little red peppers, beads, and tiny glass mirrors. We shared memories then went to have a bite of lunch before heading back to the house and taking a dip in the pool. It was a day of mourning rituals to ease the burden of grief.

Although they were forced upon us by the pandemic, I find these tiny gatherings quite restorative. It’s easy to forget, I think, that a person’s passing touches numerous lives and while I, as the spouse, am certainly hurt, the hurt is shared in varying degrees, in ways I can’t even begin to fathom, by a wide circle of people--friends, family, and acquaintances. Typically, that grief would have been born in silence or shared all at once in a public funeral with me and her children as the focal points.

These small gatherings, on the other hand, offer a more personalized experience. They are less about the immediate family than they are about the departed and the people who miss her. They certainly offer me their condolences, but the time usually is spent focused on the departed and their feelings for her. It seems more rewarding for the bereaved, than the snippets of time that might have been allocated at a larger gathering. And it certainly makes me feel good to be able to console them because it reminds me that grief is a burden to be shared and is not mine alone to bear.