Bright colors and happy people in my neighborhood. I made a cute brunette with tats smile when I grabbed a sample cookie in the grocery store. Waited for the bus… Rode the bus to the bottom of the hill, Mount Scott. On top of there was Willamette National Cemetery.
Waited for the shuttle bus… Driver immediately took a 15-minute break. Decided to walk uphill instead.
Ate my carmel corn. It was all I had brought for lunch, along with a half-liter of water. Cars drove past. Warm day. Sting sang about being the King of Pain. I reached the gates to the cemetary.
I stepped over a mouse body, belly-up in death. I wondered if the mouse was a veteran.
Took my hat off in the heat. Glad I had the water. Cars drove past. The hill was steep.
People everywhere. Found mom’s gravesite with only a little effort. It was on the backside of the cemetery, with a view of Mt. St. Helens barely showing above the foothills.
She’s here, and not here. Everything that she was is in the ground here. There’s nothing left that I would recognize as my mom. It’s the same way I felt when I stood in the room with her dead body, only an hour or so after her death. She’s not there anymore. She’s not anywhere anymore.
I was sad, but I didn’t cry. I cried when she was alive.
A stick-thin and tall man with a woman’s reedy voice sat reading a book on top of a grave. Middle-aged women and men dragged teens and younger kids to view a spot on the ground where their ancestors lay.
It was at least a 30-minute walk back down the hill. I made my way past the fields of flags.
“Excuse me?” – an older Asian lady asked me to help her find her number. Of course I could. A laminated card with the name and a number and a section and directions. I walked back and forth and found the pattern and quickly located the gravestone.
“Here he is,” I said, not actually thinking he was there but realizing this place wasn’t for philosophical debates. I walked her over and showed her. She didn’t think it was right but then it clicked.
“Thank you,” I said, thanking her for the service, and for her devotion to this man, and for the opportunity to be of some small assistance to her.
“Thank you,” she said back. “God blessing you now.”
I smiled and again silently renewed my intention not to argue. If there is a God I’m sure He’s not too happy with my lack of belief. But I enjoy helping humans when I can. I put my hand on her shoulder, simple human contact, and left her to her visit.
The mouse’s body was still there on the way down.