The prompt said to plant something, as an act of remembrance, allowing our children’s memory to grow over time. But it’s October where I live, which translates into a cool New England autumn- not exactly planting season. I have planted a garden in my backyard, a little plot that bears her name, filled will colorful flowers by our white fence. I dug up, tilled and planted a veggie garden in my grief, another piece of land that will forever remind me of my daughter.
Since it’s saturday- our usual Mabel’s visiting day- when I picked up some flowers on the way home from work, I grabbed two bouquets. When we arrived at the cemetery, we placed the colorful bunch of mini roses by Mabel’s grave and then wandered around the cemetery with the other bouquet- this one an orange one, the color of carrots. We sought out headstones with specific dates- short intervals, or sometimes just one date. Often it was one name carved in a stone meant for three that caught our eyes. We were looking for children. When we found such tombstones, we placed a stem of roses- a gift from Mabel to them. Though it may not be planting anything, we remembered them today- acknowledging their short lives, giving them a gift from mother earth, letting them know that they are remembered.