I Bought the Burial…
I squeezed my eyes shut as fresh tears filled my eyes. “That isn’t the same.”
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
At the funeral, I sat in the front row, stared at Daniel’s casket, and thought, We were supposed to grow old together.
We’d had plans. We’d decided to retire in a smaller house with a deep porch. We’d planned road trips through New England in the fall.
We’d discussed spoiling our grandkids — if our daughter Julia ever decided to have children.
We’d planned to be buried side by side, but we hadn’t bought the plots yet.
We’d planned to be buried side by side.
After the funeral, I did something impulsive, expensive, and completely unlike me. I went to the cemetery office and bought the plot next to his.
I used almost all of my savings. It was irrational. Daniel would have told me not to. He would have said we should think it through, make a budget, and be sensible.
But when it was done, and I stood there looking at those two spaces, his grave and my spot beside it, I felt something close to peace for the first time since the crash.
