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 |  The place to discuss our dreams and interpret them or to just hang around and talk. |
It was really weird, but cool at the same time. The Catholic cemetery, where my mom is buried (I was 8 when she died) and just up the hill from where I lived growing up, was on the opposite side of the road from where it actually is. Strung above all the tombstones, were long clotheslines. Hung over most of the graves, were clothes from the deceased, like a cotton dress, shirt, etc. Above one grave, were several pairs of baby socks of different colors. Nothing hung over my mother's grave. I tried to find something, like a cotton dress, or anything, to place over her tombstone, but found nothing. I do have her simple, satin beige wedding dress, but the rain would ruin it, so I dared not hang it out. Although I felt devastated that I couldn't find anything to hang above her grave, the image of the cemetery with the hanging clothes blowing gently in the breeze, really struck me, reminding me that all the people buried there were once alive and lived a life like we are living now. It was eerily touching to see their clothes moving gently above where they were buried, making them more real again. I woke up and kept thinking about this dream. And though I wished I had a pretty dress of my mother's instead of knick-knacks, my husband reminded me this weekend as our youngest grandchild snuggled between us, that she--along with our other grandkids--are a part of my mom... she lives in me, my daughters, and grandkids. What a lovely thought! |
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