This last week, with the weather getting better, and the issues we have had with Rhianna Lily’s grave (more on that another day) we have not been leaving her flowers to chance.
There were four sets of flowers put on her grave (or garden as it is called) on her due date, two with an oasis holder and two in the flower holder. Either Mr L or myself have been going up there regularly to check on the flowers and to make sure they don’t become unsightly.
It has mainly been me, because I have had the time, and it is easier for me to quickly nip to the grave about 7pm when we have all eaten and gives Baba and Mr L a little much-needed one to one time when I go. We haven’t been going every day but at least every third day to check on everything.
There is something special about going to the cemetery at this time of the day. Usually when we go we see people, it is never a massive amount of people but we still see some.
In the evenings it seems to be a lot quieter. In fact I have only seen one other person up there at this time, and they seemed to be lost. They couldn’t find the grave they wanted.
I seem to take more in at this time of the day. I feel more comfortable, sitting on the ground and having my own private chat with Rhianna Lily, one that will never be replied too but one that is so important anyway. I tell her my real feelings on things, I don’t hold back when I am up there, I get my release I suppose. Everything builds up, and there I can let it all out.
I don’t have to worry about what people think of me, with what I am saying. I can be angry, mad, vent my anger at one person or the whole world and no one will raise an eyebrow, or answer me telling me that maybe it is just their way. I can talk about it all and am never judged. Some days this is my saving grace as all I need to do is vent, rage and then I feel a lot better.
But it isn’t just about the talking, it is about the silence.
It is so silent up there, there are no disruptions, no distractions and for those few minutes that I am there all my attention is on Rhianna Lily.
I may not be able to hold her, I can’t kiss her, I can’t see her grow up. But I can make her garden the prettiest there is and I can make the flowers bloom. Just like she would.
I can sit and watch the bumble bee, moving from buttercup to buttercup around the grave next to Rhianna and her grave, making the bright flowers grow around them.
I can sit and listen to the nature around here
I can just sit and be with her.
When we first knew what had happened to Rhianna we had this idea that we would cremate her and put her into Mr L’s Nan’s grave. Now three months on I am so glad that we didn’t do that. Rhianna needed her own space, I needed her to have her own space. She did not deserve to share. I am grateful for her own space.
It is hers, it is ours, and sometimes when nothing else has gone right in the day and all that I have wanted is to hold her and forget the nightmare we are living it is really the only place I feel comfortable and can be the only place that I want to be!