A weird fact of life

Troy, Ohio. Home of many people I'm sure...
Place of happiness, lots of schools, churches, community events...

As I drove around the town with my husband, I commented that it was just a homey place to be. People were outside walking the sidewalks, they had a goodwill store, it was a typical "welcome to America" town. Brad got nostalgic as we drove around his old block - we took pictures of the street signs and his old house, school, etc. He showed me the house he got saved at one summer, and the hill his dad took him down on his bike when he was a little guy, too scared to go alone - a memory he treasures.

Then we rounded the hill and came upon a huge grave yard. My heart sunk. We CAN'T be going in there! Since childhood I've struggled with facing and being around death. I've only just lost my great - grandparents, and besides the loss of my child, I don't experience death often. I'm uncomfortable with mourning... I'm shy around those who lose loved ones... and I'm not proud of that - but I'm so immature when it comes to this stuff. My heart goes into overdrive, I lose my breath and feel all shaky.

We follow a path through this grave yard, and there are assorted grave stones all different shapes and sizes and colors - some were beautiful, outlandish designs of angels and Mary figurines, while others were simple stones with a name and date. My eyes went from name to name, date to date, some were children - others middle aged, and many lived long lives. I tried to picture each person in my mind. What did they look like? What was their life story? Then out of the corner of my eye... I see why we are here. Pausley. Two Pausleys. Brad parks the car and I sat frozen in the passenger seat - I can't move. I'm starring at the graves with my last name on them. I wanted so badly to hop out and support my husband as he spent a few minutes paying respect to his grandparents, people I never met, but hear so much about. He arranged the silk flowers someone had placed on their stone, then he patted away the snow and made the spot look more tidy and cared for. He knelt down and put his hand on the top of the grave - I saw him mouth something then turn back to me and smile. He's so strong. I want to be like him.

As we pulled away, I'm trying so hard to hold back the tears - my throat hurts as I try. I end up weeping and apologizing that I couldn't be out there with him, he understands...always understands me. We have a quiet moment then follow the path to the exit. As we are leaving we drive past an elderly woman who is sitting in her car looking out the window at a grave. Was this her husband recently buried? A son lost years ago much too early? A sister? Parent? I couldn't help but watch her as she layed her head on her hand and just watched the grave.... she seemed so at peace, so calm and accepting of her situation. I tucked this picture into my brain and hope to never forget it. Death...