All I wanted to do was plant some flowers. I imagined myself going to the store and buying a bunch of different flowers. I pictured my Husband and I walking through the cemetary hand in hand with my wonderfully clueless two year old running ahead calling hello to all the birds. I felt that this was an important thing to do to help my healing. That finally being able to visit my mothers grave after the long cold winter would help me to feel less alone. Like I could talk to her, and she might actually be listening. I needed to feel that close to her again, even though I know it will be really hard. My Dad won't tell me were she is buried. I don't know why, he has strange notions sometimes. There is no stone, and I imagine that the outline of the hole is still there. But I needed this and he just won't give in. I can go behind his back I'm sure. My uncle, who was one of the pall bearers would know how to get there. But I wouldn't want my Dad to be mad at me. The stone probably won't be in until June, and then he's going to ask us all to go together. I don't want to go with them, not the first time anyways. I want to go with my Husband and my daughter so that if I feel the urge to cry I can cry. I can't cry in front of my dad or my brothers. Why is he being so stuborn, he just makes me want to scream.
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