Digital Diary

The first time I ever visited a graveyard I was 6 years old 

2 years since my grandfather’s passing 

My mother tucked me into the car seat I would take far too long to outgrow 

A seatbelt tightly against a chest too small to understand loss 

How it grows, invades and injects itself into the smallest of places 

I yelped with discomfort and her glossed over empty eyes met mine 

I swallowed my cry and sat still 

My mother fixed her gaze tightly on the road, the radio buzzed lightly 

The smell of vanilla and detergent wafted throughout the car

I watched the town pass us by through the window, I could barely reach 

We drove past his rickety old house with the sagging roof 

The gravel crackled beneath the tires 

As we drove into the sparsely decorated, trimmed yard of headstones 

The daft spring air smelled of freshly cut grass

My teeny feet danced around the stone my mother became anchored on

I recognized a name like my own etched into the clouded stone 

Just then a ladybug fluttered onto the stone, and I called for her to look 

And I wondered why she stood fixated on this person’s name 

I thought he must be late

Doesn’t he know? 

Mommy hates that 

I asked when I would meet him

My mother’s hand gripped tighter against mine 

I didn’t understand that names could stay even when people didn’t 

The second time I ever visited a graveyard I was 23 years old 

This time I drove myself down the tired streets my mother previously called home 

Windows boarded up, and houses relinquished surrendering to the elements 

I sped past the overgrown lot, where the little grey house once stood 

Now reduced to only ash and rubble 

The driveway she learned to ride a bike devoured by weeds

The blueberry patch in the backyard she spent her summers with my grandmother now out of reach 

Her bedroom once filled with giggles and whispers collapsed under splintered wood

That little girl sits somewhere within the wreckage 

Once again rubber over stone krssh krssh krssh 

The same yard of forgotten headstones frozen in time greets me 

The air heavier than it once was

His name, etched into stone, stared back at me 

I spent my entire life trying to understand her, and in that moment I became her 

With solace, I reached for my mother’s heart and gave it back to him 

It is only now that I know that some people never arrive 

It is only now that I know the permanence of lateness