Set in Stone

One of many idioms that I grew up hearing was how things aren’t permanent until they are “set in stone.” I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about what it meant or how literal I took the expression until today.

It is the seven month anniversary of the day that my mom died and I stopped by the cemetery on my way to work to mark the occasion. I approached my parents’ headstone with managed expectations, knowing it was possible that the date she died would not be engraved yet. This was in spite of my following up on the fifth month anniversary in the main office, only to find out that something got lost in the shuffle/workflow and they didn’t realize it hadn’t been done.

The staff member I met with on December 13th indicated it would happen in next few weeks or so, unless inclement weather precluded that. In the meantime, I cleared the area around where the engraving would take place. I moved much of the decorative knick knacks to the top of the their headstone and they looked nice there. We did end up getting a good amount of cold weather and snow, so I wasn’t shocked on January 13th — the six monthly anniversary of Mom’s death, as well as on January 20th — Dad’s 83rd Birthday, to see that the space under Mom’s birth date was still blank.

Back to this morning… from a distance I could see the area around Mom and Dad’s grave looked kind of messy. The three little birds I’d place on top during the holiday season were scattered, two on the ground and one still on the stone, however it was tipped over. Other things we’d brought in honor and memory of Dad on his birthday last month, such as number “8” and “3” birthday candles, also weren’t where we’d left them. That was not as surprising, since I knew we’d used snow to help prop some of them up and I anticipated when it melted they might fall.

As I got closer I looked towards the space I’d been waiting, month after month, for an engraver to fill and was excited to see the word “July!” Then my eyes moved to the right to read the date that followed and I was stunned, as well as confused, to see the number “19.”

What?!

Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

Did the engraver really get the date wrong?

Yup.

I appreciate that mistakes happen and it still sucks, especially ones that are quite literally set in stone.

It felt like a bad joke.

I made my way to the main office of the cemetery to share what I had found. The staff members there determined that it was a clerical error. The person who filled out the form for the engraver wrote the date we buried her — July 19, 2023, instead of the day she died — July 13, 2023.

That person initially thought it was the engraver’s gaffe, until they found the form that had been submitted and realized it was actually their mistake and then apologized even more profusely.

Of course they will fix it, though initially they were not exactly sure how, as the part that had been engraved was not a “faceplate” on the headstone that could be removed.

I received an email from someone at the cemetery not long after I left to head into work, letting me know that they were “having the counselor go out and rub a carbon copy of the marker, then sending it off to a contractor that (they) know does really good repair work.” Apparently, “red granite is the easiest to repair.” Also, they wrapped up their message with their “deepest apologies that this occurred.”

So that happened.

I’ve shed more than a few tears about this today and also laughed several times. I know that Dad would especially have found this amusing, though I think he also would’ve been fairly pissed off. My parents prepaid for and ordered their burials and headstone many years before they died. Dad worked with a close friend, who is a graphic designer, to incorporate the design on their wedding rings onto it. The headstone was placed on their grave plot well in advance, so it would be ready when the time came. Dad even drove us to visit it at least once before he died and used to joke about going there and hanging out, maybe even having a picnic, since they technically owned the space.

One of the things that struck me about this experience today is that when we talk about things being “set/carved/written in stone,” we typically mean they are “fixed, unchanging and permanent,” as this Grammarist article describes. There are so many problems/issues/conflicts in life that we are conditioned to believe cannot be solved. However, the older I get and the more I learn, as well unlearn, about history and oppressive systems (especially white supremacy, settler colonialism and capitalism), the more I have come to understand that most things can actually be fixed and/or changed — they are not indeed permanent. In many cases the process will be difficult, painful, involve dismantling internal structures and either rebuilding or starting fresh with new foundations.

I do love a good metaphor and appreciate what I can take from this one.

As frustrating and disappointing as finding the wrong date on my mom’s headstone at the cemetery today was, this too shall pass. I will be interested to see how well contractor does with the granite repair and wonder if it will be obvious, in any way, what happened when they are done.

My parents could be perfectionists at times, especially when it came to grammar, and being raised by them wasn’t always easy. I absorbed some of their tendencies and have worked hard to let go of my own inclination towards perfectionism. Not long ago I heard the phrase “good enough is enough” and remind myself of that often.

Seven months since my mom’s death and over two and a half years since my dad’s I really miss them.

Life (does) just (go) on without them and it is still really hard.

I was driving home from work tonight and the song “Without You” from Rent (one of my favorite musicals) shuffled it’s way on from my Apple music library. I had a good cry, as I listened, sang along and thought about two of my favorite people that I don’t get to see and spend time with anymore (in the ways that I did for the first 46-48 years of my life). I will leave you with that song and lyrics, as they capture so well how it feels to live on after loved ones are gone.

Without You from Rent

Without you
The ground thaws
The rain falls
The grass grows
Without you
The seeds root
The flowers bloom
The children play
The stars gleam
The poets dream
The eagles fly
Without you
The earth turns
The sun burns
But I die
Without you

Without you
The breeze warms
The girl smiles
The cloud moves
Without you
The tides change
The boys run
The oceans crash
The crowds roar
The days soar
The babies cry
Without you
The moon glows
The river flows
But I die
Without you

The world revives—

Colors renew—

But I know blue, only blue, lonely blue, within me blue

Without you
Without you
The hand gropes
The ear hears
The pulse beats

Without you
The eyes gaze
The legs walk
The lungs breathe

The mind churns! (The mind churns!)
The heart yearns! (The heart yearns!)

The tears dry
Without you
Life goes on
But I’m gone
Cause I die

Without you

Without you

Without you

Without you