Insecurities are strange

As if it's not hard enough to come to terms with the fact that our baby is never coming home to live with us. This is permanent...forever. He's buried in a very nice plot up on the hill in the cemetery...forever. The universe wants me to understand this and accept it. I admit that I'm not having a problem understanding the concept itself...it's the acceptance of it that is so hard to take.

And I'm supposed to choose words to honor my baby...forever set in stone. Are you kidding me?!?!

As my fearless readers know by now, I'm not a great poet by any means. Often, my thoughts tend toward the plain old boring run-of-the-mill-Indiana-roots-hillbilly. I am impressed with the genius of slogans like, "Can you hear me now?" or, "What's in YOUR wallet?" I will never be published in an anthology of great works. And I will admit that I often have to edit and re-edit what I write on this blog so that it is even somewhat coherent. How in the world do I come up with something to carve in stone for Alex's grave marker?

Steve is a wonderful man, and an amazing husband and father (Hi honey...I love you). When it comes to words, he's really not interested. In the entire time we've been married (almost 11 years), I think I've seen him read one book. His time online is not spent with poets and authors. When I asked him what he wanted to put on Alex's headstone, he said, "Whatever you like is fine with me. I'm sure you'll come up with something perfect." Uh...thanks.

You probably won't be surprised to know that I approached this like most other things I have no clue about...I hit the net. But despite my previous assertions that you can Google anything, and my hours online searching memorial pages and famous poetry databases, I was unable to find a single thing online that satisfied my fear of forever. There were no verses, poems, or the like, that were "perfect" for my little boy. Then I remembered he's dead and he doesn't care. Who's going to see it? Oh yeah! Me!

So, rather than tax my brain anymore, I opted for one of those trite phrases you see over-used in cemeteries..."Forever in our Hearts." I wasn't satisfied with it. I wasn't inspired at all. But I figured it was short and sweet and to the point...and it wouldn't necessarily induce tears everytime I read it.

So we went to the memorial store. We laid out our plan for the stone on paper with the very nice salesperson, Michelle. We came to THE question, "Would you like to write something under the name and date?" I told her our less-than-inspired tagline (for lack of a better term) and I could visibly see her smirk and cringe all at the same time. It was as though you could hear her inner voice saying, "That's the best you can come up with?" I don't know why, but in that moment I knew I had to change it. Am I really that insecure? Or was she just reflecting my own feelings back at me?

The funny thing is, I came up with something that I prefer within an hour after leaving the memorial store. It seems I am quite motivated by my own insecurities. It's still not award-winning poetry, by any means. But it's not bad...and it gets an, "I like it," from Steve. So we made some changes and our plans are now set in stone. (I crack myself up sometimes with my wit)

I'll keep you posted on the progress. I may yet change it three or four times before I actually get satisfied with what I want to say for all eternity.

Stay tuned.