In the Shade of a Moment

"It's so hard to be here. I love my Mom, but it's not where I thought I would be spending my time with her. At least here, I share with those around me the pain of loss, the pain of knowing that this is the only place left that I can be with this person that I love so much."

I look around, and to my left is the old man I see here every day when I come. He just sits there. He doesn't move, but I see him talking quietly, as though there is someone with him. Once when he was not here, I went over and looked to see who he talks to. 62 years. That is a long time. He must be so lonely now. It's only been 2 months that I have found myself sitting here every day. I wonder how long he has been coming.

Then, I look over my shoulder and see the lady, young still, and she's usually by herself and always crying. She has been coming for three weeks now. I feel my heart lurch listening to her softly crying, knowing how it feels. I wonder if she has children. There is a woman with her, and she is holding her hand. She looks to be just a little older than I am. She usually comes alone, and she cries.

I look then, over to the woman standing there holding a baby. She, like all of us is crying too, and she always holds the baby closer when her tears are falling. Before she leaves, she always reaches out and touches the only thing that she has left now, and cries harder for a moment.

Somehow, there is a feeling of oneness seeing them all here like this every day. I wish I could tell them that I know, I understand, and I'm so sorry. I wish that someone would reach out and say the same to me while I stand here in the sun.

I have taken note though, of that big tree standing near us all in the middle of the lawn, it's limbs stretching out over the corners where we all stand. There are benches there, two of them. I've thought about going over and sitting down in the shade of that old tree, but somehow, I can never bring myself to leave the place where I stand near Mom, the same place every day. I have noticed that all of us seem to have staked out a particular place in our respective areas and we stay in it as though if we moved, we would lose the only connection we have left with those we love so much.

It is so hot today. As I look around, I see them all removing scarves and sweaters. When we all arrived, it was still chilly, the morning not yet receiving the blessings of the sun. The woman's baby was wrapped in a blanket, which she was now removing, and the old man had taken off his coat. I thought about the shawl around my shoulders, Mom's shawl, and I just could not bring myself to remove it, just the feel of it against my shoulders bringing me a small degree of comfort.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, tiredness setting in from another sleepless night, thinking about Mom and all the things we have done together. Now we only spent time together here, the only thing left for me.

I looked over to the big tree and thought to myself, "It must be lonely too, sitting out here in the middle of this big expanse of lawn, no other trees to spend its time with, no one paying it much mind."

But somehow, there was a sort of sharing feeling, the way it's branches reached out to include those of us near it, and suddenly I felt drawn to it.

I thought, "It looks so cool under the branches, the way it shades the benches there. I feel it calling to me." I found myself moving slowly from where I was standing by Mom, an unusual thing for me. I always stayed as close to her as I could when I came here to be with her, to remember.

I hesitated for a second, but found myself again, drawn to the old shade tree. It took only a few seconds more for me to feel the difference in temperature as the branches filled the space with the shade that suddenly felt so good.

I stopped in front of the bench, reached out and ran my hand softly along the bench's seat. It felt like coming home. Why was I feeling this strange sensation today? Why had I not felt it yesterday or the day before? I sat down quietly and closed my eyes, drinking in the feeling of having come home. My senses stilled and my heart felt like a little light somewhere in it's corner had been switched on, just the size of a small night light to be sure, but suddenly there was a light where before it had sat in darkness, the feeling that it never would see the light of day again. How could it even beat without Mom here to remind me every day that she was here and she would always love me?

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, a soft touch, so very gentle, and a I heard a voice quietly say, "Pardon me, but would you mind of I sit down here next to you." I opened my eyes and the old man was standing there, tears on his cheeks to match the ones on mine.

And as I looked at him, another voice said, "Could you make a place for me too?" Behind her, the lady with the baby was standing there as well. She too, was still carrying the evidence on her cheeks that she felt what I did.

I sat there silently for a second, realizing that all of them were now standing in the shade of the old tree, and I knew that somehow a family was born again that met there, under the branches of a tree that I knew instinctively was put there to bring us together this day, to share the grief and the loneliness that we all brought with us to the cemetery this morning.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I found myself smiling, and before I could say anything, I felt each of their hands on my shoulders, surrounding me with a new kind of comfort, the only comfort I felt since Mom was taken so suddenly from me.

"Please, yes sit down here," I whispered. It was a long bench that seated each one next to the other, with a little scooting room left over.

The old man smiled sheepishly back and said, "Do you all feel what I feel right now? This is so strange, but I feel as though this big old tree was calling to each of us to come to it and sit under its branches together like this." There was a murmur that could be heard by all, everyone agreeing that they had felt the pull, that the old tree's branches were just waiting for them to get near enough to enfold them in its arms.

It was quiet again for a minute, while one by one, each of them thought to themselves, "It hurts so bad, but we together can begin to heal." Though the words were unsaid, they all smiled just a tiny smile for a second as they realized that this was a divine moment, that they were meant to meet like this, after all the times they had been there in the cemetery at the same time.

I spoke first after that. "My name is Amelia."

"Mine is "Sandra, and this is my little boy, Johnny. He's named after his dad."

Mine is "Artemus. Call me Artie. Amanda always did," said the old man.

After the introductions had been made, quiet descended upon them again, each of them thinking about what had just happened. Artie spoke again, softly to the others. "When my wife died, I knew my life was over. I wanted it to be. I didn't want to be in anyone's company."

Murmurs went around once more, all of them agreeing that the only place they wanted to be was near their loved one, here, in the cemetery. They had no communication with anyone else, cutting themselves off from the living world.

Sandra spoke next. "I have not been able to see tomorrow since John Senior died. Johnny was 2 weeks old when he was hit by that car. I come here every day just to be with John. I haven't spoken to anyone. It's as though life stopped."

Everyone agreed that the cemetery was now their lives, sitting with the loved ones who left them so suddenly, crying and dreaming that wishes could come true and they could go back to the days of sunshine and love.

In the heat of a summer morn, under an old shade tree, five people found that life was not over, that somehow that old shade tree had saved them and brought them life again, a glimmer of hope where there had been none, a new friend born to help them breathe at a time when breathing was not an option. In the hands of God, miracles are born, old lives are renewed, and new lives are given a chance.