Visiting Matthew

Yesterday, I went and visited with Matthew for the first time since he died. I had been wanting to for over a week but kept putting it off, maybe waiting for the right time. I wanted to go without the kids for the first time, not knowing what I would be feeling upon being back at the cemetary. I can imagine Raleigh throwing a fit because he wants to see the big "hole" that Matthew is in.

His grave is in a newer section of the cemetary, actually the Veteran section. My grandfather, who is still alive, is a vet. He and my grandmother have spaces in there for when they pass. My aunt (g-pa's daughter) died of leukemia several years ago, and they had her moved next to their spaces. We are glad that he is in with family and the arrangements worked out very well for the situation.

Tears started streaming down my face as I drove to the back. I don't recall ever visiting anyone's grave in my life and hoped to be the only one there. I pulled off to the side where Matthew is and noticed a tent with chairs not far from where I was at. There was a table in the front where a casket would soon be placed. At each end of the table silently and still, stood two soldiers. I thought about how sad they must be feeling to have to bury one of their own. I hoped in my mind that whoever he was, got to lead a loving and fulfilling life knowing Christ.

I walked over to Matthew, noticing the small patch of grass that covered him. There was also a new sign. It was small and plastic, marking who he is until we order a bronze setting.

Matthew A. Harden
2009-2009

Such a short life. I wondered if anyone else had noticed him. I had hoped so. The flowers we left after the ceremony were gone. It had been a few weeks, so I'm sure they were very dried out by now and the grounds workers cleaned them up for us.

I knelt down next to the fresh sod and spoke to the Lord, thanking him once again for my precious son. My tears were falling to the ground as I wept silently. I'm sure Matthew saw every one of them from above and could feel the love. I felt a bit rushed, not wanting to be in the way if the funeral precession were to come my way. I looked back and noticed that the soldiers had moved from their place by the table, on to the roadside behind me. They were standing there ever so still in position, out of respect for me and my son. I got up and brushed the dirt off my knees, and just thought about my Matthew for a few minutes, wishing I had brought him something cheery. As I walked back to the car, the soldiers walked back to their position at the ends of the table. I didn't know those gentlemen, but I was very proud of them, and I'm sure their fellow soldier would have been as well. My time was my son was very important, and their actions showed that they understood that.