The cemetery

I went and visited Jamie's grave yesterday. I was all alone and it was a strange feeling driving out to the cemetery. As I drove questions that Jackson would ask popped into my head. Why are we going? Why are there graves? What's a headstone for? Can I pee on that pile of dirt(all mothers of boys understand that question)? I don't know how I would have answered Jackson. I don't know why I felt like going to the cemetery. I don't understand my feelings about it all. When I got there I stood at Jamie's grave for a minute and then began to walk around and look at the headstones and what people leave on the graves. I saw real flowers, fake flowers, beer cans, pinwheels, flags and a face mask. I knew some of the people that were buried and recognized family names of others. Two headstones I read upset me more than being at Jamie's grave. One was for a baby who lived two days in 1987 and one was for a two year old girl. Going out to the cemetery made me think more of my boys than anything else. What would I do if something happened to them. A wise lady told me not to long ago that I would never have to worry about Jamie like I do the boys because I know exactly where she is now. That is such a true statement and a comfort as well. I have peace that Jamie is in heaven. I am still sad, but my worries and fears are about me and my family's time on this earth. What peace we will all have when we are in heaven with knees bowed proclaiming that that Jesus is King.