Love Dances On the Graves

"Scarcely had I passed them
when I found the one my heart loves.
I held him and would not let him go
until I brought him to my mother's house,
to the room of the one who conceived me."
Song of Solomon 3:4

It was May 1. I had reserved the day to spend with my parents months ago but that morning I had the distinct feeling that the day was especially significant - God was up to something. "Go to the cemetery today." Driving down to Baltimore, I stopped by Food Lion and picked up some flowers and headed for my parents' home. We were going to spend a morning walking down memory lane.

I had not visited this cemetery in oh, let's say 25 years. Without Mom's help I couldn't have found the site where her parents were buried. Hundreds of flat, iron markers line the field of deep graves each containing two bodies, one laying on top of the other. (What an ingenious way to save space and make money.) We paid our respects, cutting the flowers to fit in the urn and I watched for Mom's tear but a giggle came instead.

You got to know my mom. She's finally crossed over to a life stage of contentment. It makes her beautiful. Leaving regrets behind she's enjoying the rest of the journey. I didn't expect it, but God was taking my mom back to "remember when's" and it was bringing out the little girl that lives in every daughter. This was a happy place where she used to run and play. I could imagine her dancing on the graves in a pretty white dress. Suddenly Mom's thoughts skipped to the present. "I think our plot is right over there."

(I didn't even know they had one picked out? Thanks for taking care of that morbid detail, Mom and Dad. We don't have ours picked out. How old do you have to be before you start looking? Cringe.)

Perusing over several rows of graves she started searching for their plot like a child playing hide and seek. I followed her, scrambling to contain a sudden burst of strong emotions. The scene was not nearly as simple for me. "Here it is," Mom yelled to us. Standing over your parents' future grave is a very odd feeling. I lost it. "Oh my gosh, this is going to happen some day." I don't plan on going back until I have to but the moment was a "stand alone" for me, full of significance.

The power of bonding begins at conception. It's the glue that holds relationships together - you can't love successfully without it. Sometimes people search for love in the wrong places but love never becomes intimate unless you have the ability to bond. That's a mother's job. Love is real when you can identify the strength of a bond. It should have been fostered wherever your mother made a home.

I've got a feeling that the door to Mom's memory world is quickly closing so I'm going to cherish the mental snap shot of this day. When the time comes, Lord, help me remember the dance moves of a child.