If I had more space, I'd plant a rose garden.

I was recently recounting some of the bigger landmarks in my past. Sort of like a tragic overview version of "This is My Life." I was in a psychologist's office, and she's new to me. Lots of questions, lots of ground to go over. I don't think there's one particular issue that has led me to the quagmire that is my personal neuroses. It makes that introductory phase of therapy hard. Friendships, too, actually, but that's a whole different blog post.

While reviewing aforementioned landmarks, I realized that yes, this is the month marking my mom's death. As a matter of fact, it will be 13 years since her death next week. July 16, 2010. Gone 13 years. The weight of that makes my eyes close and pulls me down toward the earth. This is not something I usually contemplate, as that would push me into an incredibly unhealthy place. I miss her and my heart hurts. It always will.

After having this realization, I was thinking about a trip to the cemetery. It's kind of traditional. Not specifically for me, as I figure I can be depressed anywhere, but in a generic kind of a way. When I do make this trip, no matter what time of year, I leave behind some fresh pink roses. They were predominate in her funeral sprays (casket and standing), and even decorated the coffin we buried her in. There's a bitter macabre part of me that knows those roses are going to wither and die, on the ground at the foot of her tombstone.

At the store, there was a bouquet of fresh pink roses. I bought them. Then I decided to keep them for me. There's still something bitter and macabre about it all. I put them in a jar, with some water, and I walk buy them all day long. I want to remember her life, not her death, but it's too tied up all together.

I wish she was buried in a place where I could plant a live rose bush. That might be healing. For me, anyway. I know she doesn't care.

I'm terrified that when I die someone will seal my body in a box, then another box, and throw dirt on top of it. Logically, I know it doesn't matter as I won't be there anyway. Emotionally I haven't caught on. My wish is that they'll wrap me in some basic linen and put me directly into the Earth. Then somebody who loved me can come along and plant a tree.