An anything but quiet visit to the cemetery.

You may be thinking how could a visit to a hallowed place be anything but quiet.  When you have a new vehicle, at least new to us, with a new key fob with a little red horn that you have never seen before, a noisy visit is quite possible.

It is my custom,  with the long summer light, to go up to visit Justin’s grave on Monday evenings after Mass. Justin is our eldest son who was killed in a single vehicle car accident.  I say hello to Mom, Dad and my oldest brother Vincent as well, but my well worn path is to Justin’s headstone. I park at the far side of the circle, Justin’s grave can’t be but 20 or 30 yards away. He rests at the back edge of the cemetery by the tree line near a small wood. There are always so many birds and woodland folk about, it is very peaceful.  The stone is always so warm and it is a comfort just to rest my head on its warmth. I thank the angels who watch over my son’s body, for that is the worth that our Heavenly Father places on us, we are dust, but beloved dust.

I wander back to Goldie, our pet name for the newer mini-van and hit what I think is the unlock button on the key fob. My well mannered vehicle started to beep and flash its lights and generally make a spectacle of both of us, waking the dead took on a whole new meaning.  I do manage to get in and start her, she quiets. I breathe and start to drive through the cemetery, the horn honking commences again. More than a little flustered,  I stop, she quiets, I start again.  Every 60 to 90 seconds the horn and lights flash.  Oh, did I mention that this is the first day she and I ventured out together.  I find that by hitting that little red horn on the key fob the hysterics stop, temporarily.  I drive to the nearby high school and get out the owner’s manual. No mention of the little red horn button or the type of behavior being exhibited.  I briefly thought to get out and start all over, but then I realized what a clever girl she is, most likely thinks she is being stolen and would promptly not let me back in should I be so stupid to vacate.  I suck it up and drive the rest of the way home with my girl announcing her kidnapping every 90 seconds…regardless of who was in front of me or on the side of the road…unsuspecting joggers, ladies with small white dogs….heavy sigh.

I arrive home, promptly turn her off and scurry into the house…by now a quarter of my body has broken out in hives.

I am relaying my story to my older brother Ken, I get to the part about locking Goldie when I am up in the graveyard, he breaks out into one of his infectious laughs and queries me as to whom did I think would bother my purse or car…the inhabitants?  It was rather funny, but a girl can’t be too careful. I know quite a few of the folks lying in rest up there and not one of them would think twice about playing a joke on me.

And yes, by a series of missteps, I did start the theft sequence and most likely only continued to feed her assurance of theft by pressing the little red horn.  Strangely enough when Doug got home that evening, quite late, he indulged me by taking her out. I was confident the same behavior would exist, nope, not at all, she was as quiet as can be.  What a tart.

I can hear Justin laughing with me, not at me, he had a kind and gentle spirit, but he had a keen sense of humor.  I miss catching his eye and sharing a silent joke, I miss hearing his laughter. Miss you Justin, love you forever.