We pull into the cemetery. Three cars. We aren’t together, but we are, you know? The red Honda pulls to the left and heads to the back west side. I turn right to the front east. The silver SUV drives past me and heads a couple rows to the north, Christmas carols escaping thinly in the dusky air. “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”. Sigh. Not this year. Not any year.

We are here…members of a club we didn’t ask to join. One to which the dues are far, far too high. We each set to the task at hand. Clearing away the last of the autumn leaves, straightening a cross here, an arrangement there. Quietly tending to those we loved…love still. Trying to make some sense of how another year could possibly have passed without them. “Silent Night, Holy Night”.

I carefully unwrap the solar Christmas lights and the silver garland I purchased on my way over. I decorate the metal garden piece I use to hang wreaths hoping the lights work. Mr. Virgo loved Christmas. It was his very favorite holiday and he took great delight in choosing the perfect presents and decorating our home. This year is different. The house belongs to a young family celebrating their baby’s first Christmas. I drove by the house. It looks lovely. It looks like it belongs to someone else. That’s ok..that’s good. Still…memories flood back of Mr. Virgo standing on the porch to greet me in the flood of white light from the porch decorations when I came home from work. The smell of a good pork roast greeting me when I walked in. The warmth of his hug. “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”. Sigh.

It doesn’t go away. Grief sits in my chest like a water level that rises and falls with the tide. Yesterday it spilled over the banks. Today is another day.

“O Holy Night”

❤