A Walk In The Park

Last week, my boyfriend, Taylor, and I went to the local park. It was a nice, sunny day, so we walked around the running track. We ended up cutting through some of the woods, and ended up across the street from one of the town's cemeteries. We sat down by a tree, took a picture together on my iPod, and enjoyed the moment.


With the occasional kiss, we just sat there, looking at the cemetery. We were both thinking the same thing. His mother is buried in the cemetery.


Silently, I got up and walked toward the cemetery, grabbing his hand. I knew he didn't want to go, but I knew he hadn't seen his mom in a while. He needed to. Plus, I had never met his mom before.


We were walking on a trail that led to a street. If you crossed the street, you would be in the cemetery. Along that trail were beautiful wildflowers. We were both looking at them as we walked. I let go of his hand and walked over to the flowers. They really were beautiful. I decided to pick one, and give it to Taylor's mom. When I walked back to him, he told me how he was just thinking how those same wildflowers used to be his mom's favorites.


We walked along, and as we passed graves, we looked at the dates and the names. Some were so old, all you could see was the headstone itself, worn and battered by wind and rain. There were a few people that died as young as 24, but there was one grave that gave me the most grief. It was a baby's grave. A baby that died at the painfully young age of seven months old. And on this poor child's grave were not flowers, but Gatorade bottles instead. Someone had thrown their trash onto a grave, just like it was a trash can. I can't believe people. Who would do that? What type of sick person would just drop their trash anywhere on the ground in the first place? You are just leaving it there for animals to eat, to choke on, or to injure themselves with. But especially on a grave. They may be dead, but they still deserve as much respect as a living human being does.


I had tears in my eyes by now, and Taylor understood exactly what I was thinking. I picked up the bottles, and since there wasn't a recycling bin or a trash can anywhere, I had to carry them. We walked along the roads, making turns here and there, until we saw a group of headstones that read "MICHEL". He led me past the first grave, which was his grandmother's, and on to the second one. It was black marble, with occasional grayish markings, ya know, normal marble. On the back of the gravestone was writing that covered that entire side. His hands were trembling, as his fingers ran across the back of the gravestone. I asked him what it said, and he told me it was the obituary. We moved to the front of the gravestone, and I could see that he was fighting back the tears. "It's okay to cry," I told him. I don't know how, but he only shed a few tears. Meanwhile I was crying harder than he was. My head was rested on his shoulder, trying to hide my own tears from him, knowing that he would leave as soon as he saw me crying.


The front of the gravestone, of course, had the same beautiful marble as the back. He name was Melissa. It had a picture of her. She had black, curly hair, and even though the picture was black and white I could tell that she had the same beautiful, brown eyes as Taylor. Her face was round, but skinny. She was smiling, and I could tell that was truly a happy, wonderful person. She was gorgeous. It was honestly the most beautiful headstone in the entire cemetery. Fit for the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.


As we started to leave, I remembered about the flower. I set it below the picture of her, and looked up at Taylor, and then back to the picture. She really was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. "It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Michel," I said, "Your son is a wonderful person; you raised him well. And I must say, you're gorgeous. I hope you like the flower. Your family misses you immensely." I couldn't really think of what else to say to her, and I was already ashamed of the jumble of words I had already said, so I decided to leave it at that. Well, I hope to see you again, Mrs. Michel. Goodbye."


As I started to walk away, I had more tears in my eyes. Taylor took my hand and spun me around to look at him. He hugged me like no one had ever hugged me before, and told me that no one had ever done anything like that when he brought them here. "Thank you." Was all he managed to get out before he started crying again. 


As we walked back to Taylor's car, we were both silent. He was probably remembering his mother in her final moments, dying of cancer, while I was thinking of how much I wished I could have met her when she was alive.


When we got to my house, he went to the computer and started to play World of Warcraft. I sat next to him, as usual, and when he suddenly stopped playing to look at me, It took me by surprise. He just looked at me and said, "If I get my Senior road trip like I'm supposed to, I'm going to go to Pensacola. I'm going to take you with me, and we are going to visit your Grandpa. I don't care if he was cremated and everything. We are going to go to his house, and I am going to try to do something as wonderful for him, as you did for my mom."


I was so happy that my eyes teared up. As I stayed in my room and tried to control the tears, he went into the living room and told my mom an extremely condensed version of what he told me. She said that it was fine, as long as he took my sister, too. When he came back into my room I almost tackled him to the ground. I was so happy. He will never understand how happy that made me.

I can't wait.

Here's that picture I was talking about.