Watching a Widow Weep

 

My dad passed away in 2007.  Shortly after the funeral in Snowflake, Arizona, my mom moved to Utah to be near my brothers and sister.  A little while after that, my mom's kidneys failed her and she was on dialysis for four years.  During the time on dialysis, my mom never left the 15 mile radius around her home in Utah.  She finally got a donor kidney after being on "the list" for over a year.  She has had limited traveling since 2007.  This past week, she was able to get on a plane and come see me and my family in Arizona.   

 

One of the first things I wanted her to see was my father's headstone, which she ordered, but never saw.  We took a day and traveled from Mesa to Snowflake.  We parked the car at the cemetery and I helped her get out.  I have been to my dad's grave site many times over the past seven years with my grandchildren, children and husband.  As we have gone, we've looked, we've pondered, we've prayed, but I never felt he was near.  After she got her bearings using her cane to steady herself, she walked slowly and feebly toward the headstone.  Not a word was uttered.  It seems as if even the trees stopped their rustling.  As she situated herself in front of the mountain landscape carefully etched in the granite, she began to sob.  Quiet at first, but then gained momentum the longer we stood.  I heard her quietly sob, "Why have you left me?"  At that moment, my dad was near.  My heart swelled and I couldn't contain my emotions any longer.  For the first time, I cried like a baby at my dad's grave.  With my arm around a widow, I cried with her as she wept.