Lily has been put to rest in Virginia, nearly 250 miles from where I lay my head each night. I knew I wanted her to be buried there, in my hometown, next to her great-aunt, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandparents. The place that I will most likely be buried one day. But I also knew how hard it would be not to be able to go visit her whenever I want. I have her things to remind me of her, but I can't go to a specified location and know she is there.
The miles separate us. The grave separates us. He reminds me, I am stronger than the grave. I overcame the grave. Yes.
Last month, for the first time since her funeral, I visited Lily where she rests deep within the earth. As we pulled into the cemetery, on a day much like it was the last time I was near her, chills went up my spine. At the entrance, it is marked 'Hillsboro Cemetery.' Upon seeing this, my heart skipped a beat. My breath caught in my throat as I attempted with all my might to fight back the tears. Tears that care not who is around. There is not a marking for Lily yet, so if one didn't know where to look, they wouldn't find where she is. The only trace left behind from that day in late March when my daughter was put into the earth, was the outline of where the dirt had been dug out. It couldn't have been more than two by four feet, silently telling all that will hear that who lays there was but a child. A child that left far before she should have. The hole was just wide enough to fit her Moses' basket. I wanted her to be cozy down there.
I'm sorry I can't be near you, dear baby. I'm sorry I can't come visit you like I want to. Oh, please know how much I long to.
How strange it seemed, knowing her body was several feet within the ground. My mind does not need to go to that place. I can't let it wonder to thoughts of her there. The last time she was alive was inside of me. It feels like something is missing in me. I wanted to dig her out of the earth, as fast as my hands and arms would work. I wanted to get her out of there, so she could breathe. So I could hold her. So she could be free. My silly flesh, playing tricks on me. She is free, He gently reminds me. That's not her. Just her earthly shell. She is safe at home, in the arms of Jesus. I sat silently. Still. Drinking in the presence of my Lord. He whispered quietly to my soul, Rest in me. She is with me, so stay with me. There you know you won't be far from her.
I'm sure you like the little lamb in the pink basket your great-grandmother left for you. I hope you also enjoy the Mountain Laurel we left for you, Lily. It was picked at Massanutten...remember you were there in October and I told you how the leaves were changing into the most beautiful of hues. I couldn't wait for you to see them yourself. You haven't seen anything yet, you laugh as you play in the sunshine with the Creator of all things good and lovely. Remain in my heart, little girl. I will always carry you there.
All flesh is grass, fading away.
Only You last, only You remain.
All flesh is grass, fading away.
Only You last, Only You remain...
the same, You never change.
Surely man is like the flower of the field,
And life is but a vapor, at best it's but a vapor.
Surely man is like a flower of the field,
And the fragrance but a vapor, at best it's but a vapor.
But, You O God,
are better than a thousand blooms.
-Misty Edwards
