There's nothing like a cemetery visit to really rip you to pieces. I don't go very often. I prefer to go on my own, and it is hard to find the opportunity. It's also extremely emotionally draining, so I'm not desperate to go all the time. But we were returning from a visit up the coast today and would be driving right past, and the back row was fast asleep so I went while I could. I tend to start crying way before I get there. I don't know how I feel about the grave site and what it means. It's not like I need to go there to remember him - don't be ridiculous. I think of him almost every moment of the day. And everywhere I go there are places and things that remind me of him. But still, it is obviously different and significant. Given all that I have experienced, it surprises me just how much it rips me apart to see his name there, it's not as though I don't know it's there, or haven't already been ripped apart. I think also there is a difference between intentional grieving, and the grieving that just comes over you at any moment. Visiting the cemetery, intentionally putting on a song that bring up the sadness - these are different to just being hit with it.
The little guy was sick just before bed time (if you want to know, I deftly caught it in the nappy that I was about to put on him, but I didn't catch it all, if you want to know...). He had a good cry and then cheered up beautifully. I sat him down with a bowl and a blanket while I got the little girl to bed first, and then changed the sheets etc on his bed. He told me he was fine and didn't need the bowl but then picked it up and said "a bowl for my tears." Yes indeed, that's what I need. A bowl for my tears. I wonder how many bowls I am in the process of filling.