A Solemn Party
Jonathan looked out the car window and saw fog like rumpled down blankets slumbering upon the grassy hills of a ranch north of his home and richly illuminated by the fully risen face of dawn. His school’s tardy bell would soon be ringing, and he worried about being late for his kindergarten class, asking repeatedly if he would get in trouble. He needn’t have been anxious. His absence this morning would be excused: he was going to his sister’s birthday party.
When the car came to a stop a few minutes later, Jonathan politely asked to carry the birthday balloon and newly cut flowers to his sister. He climbed out of his car seat, took the gifts from his mom, overtook his moseying dad on the sidewalk, and lead the way cheerfully to the stone under which his sister lay. The cemetery glowed all around him. He felt the chill wind and warm sun competing for his attention, but he paid them no mind.
Kneeling before the gravestone, Jonathan helped his mom replace the flowers and position the balloon in the middle of them. When the lively arrangement was to their liking, he sat on the blue blanket his dad had just placed upon the concrete walkway. Candles were lit and placed on the cake, they sang “Happy Birthday” to Vivian, and Jonathan blew out the candles for the baby girl who two years ago had breathed her last. He thought of the sister he could no longer see or hold, told her he missed her, drank his juice, ate his cake, and shared the morning’s hope with his mom, dad, and his baby sister Mirielle.
It was serenely quiet but for the family’s softly spoken words, the singing of birds, the whistling of a nearby train, and the laughs from Mirielle as she grasped and pulled the still dewy grass. In a few moments they would rise, say a few closing prayers, gather the party items they had brought, and return to the demands of the day. This sad present moment they took to celebrate, reflect, and remember.
Though still very young, Jonathan knew from years of experience the rituals surrounding death. Only time would tell how witnessing the passing of his newborn sister and celebrating her short life would ultimately shape his perspective, imagination, and disposition; but even now it was clear that love and loss had given his life special meaning. They were prevalent and important themes of his story because Vivian, his departed sister, would always remain for him a character vital and beloved.
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Kyle:
Thank you for posting this story. It’s never difficult to find the infants’ and children’s section of a cemetery: The gravesites are smaller and closer together, and there are far more flowers and decorations than in the big-people sections.
Though our pain heals slowly with time and grace, we never forget our children.
Happy birthday, Vivian!
Vivian Marie Cupp, pray for us.
This account is the deepest encounter I’ve ever experienced on the internet perhaps because
we as a family, while having had deep crosses, did not have this particular cross and not having had it somehow opens one to enter with you into the day… clean of thinking but with only feeling. I agree with Mark….she is watching and praying within perfect joy at being home in God.
That was beautiful, Kyle. Thanks for sharing that story. She is an angel watching over us.