Gray and rainy. Wind and biting cold. It was a day just like this.
It wasn't long after the sun should have peeked up over the horizon, that we left the house this morning. But the sun didn't come today. So, in the driving rain and gusting wind, we made our way. We didn't want to go. But lately, we don't seem to have much choice in these matters. Max didn't want to go either. He cried the whole way there.
As we came up over the small hill, I remembered what it felt like to pull in to this driveway that day. It was a day just like this.
This morning we bundled up Max and dashed over the puddles up to the old, heavy squeaky wood door. I shivered as I walked through the door, whether from cold or fear, I'm not sure. But I am sure, it reminded me of that day, because it was a day just like this.
Today, we arrived with a handful of pictures of our beautiful, bubbly baby girl. Today, we talked about where pictures would be placed and what words would be used. Today, we decided granite over concrete. Today, Max sat on a chair in a cool, damp room with old dirty carpet watching Wonder Pets, while his Mommy and Daddy talked to a woman about unspeakable things. On his right, his Mommy and Daddy, on his left, a bookshelf of urns. This is no place for a child. This is no place for parents. This is no place for Ellie.
The entire time we were there today, I couldn't help thinking, it was a day just like this.
It was a day just like this that Dave and I pulled up in the driveway and stared over the rolling green hills and large beautiful trees. It was a day just like this that Dave and I tried to decide if this was the right place. Of course, no place was right. The only right place was home. In her crib, with us. Especially on such a cold, gray, windy and rainy day. It was a day just like this that Dave and I drove slowly down the narrow paths, looking for the best spot. It was a day just like this that we found a little place nestled between three huge evergreen trees, overlooking the whole place.
It was a day just like this that the man came with us out to that spot carrying an old cloth map and showed us where our spots would be too. It was on a day just like this that Dave and I learned where our spots would someday be too. On that day, we claimed our spots with our girl. It was a day just like this that I realized my baby's body would soon lay there forever.
It was day just like this... the wind was equivalent to an inland hurricane. It was like the fury in my heart had been unleashed upon the earth. The rain poured from the sky, like the tears from our eyes. The storm was unstoppable. That day, standing there in the middle of a cemetery, with the wind whipping cold air all around us and rain into our faces, it seemed like the world was ending. In many ways, it had.
Today, we picked out Ellie's headstone. Today, we accepted that a temporary marker isn't enough. This isn't temporary. Today, the gray sky spit rain on our backs and wind lashed at our faces.
It was on a day just like this, that two young parents stood in the cold rain and pointed to a plot on a map.
It was on a day just like this.