A Wounded Heart, Part 4

July 19, 2005

(Read Part 1, Part 2 or Part 3 here.)

The looming white wall marked the edge of the cemetery where Daniel was buried. As soon as I saw it, it was as if something clicked inside that made if familiar, despite having been there only once before—when I was 3 years old.

I was nonchalant. “Oh, I think that’s where Daniel is buried,” I thought. Then, “I wonder if I could find his grave.” At the time, it was just a random idea, holding zero significance whatsoever. I could just as easily have said, “Oh look, there’s a new mall. I think I’ll go check it out.”

Looking back, it’s clear to me this was no random occurrence. God clearly had set it up to be a major milestone in my personal journey.

As I mentioned, my “heart” told me to turn right—toward the entrance to the cemetery—which I did. What follows is something I had never encountered previously. It was as if a forgotten memory was being pulled unconsciously from the depths of my soul.

As I approached the main entrance of the cemetery, I was struck by it’s grandeur. A huge white funeral home graced the front, complete with a large pond and a fountain shooting water 20 feet in the air. The road curved around in front of the funeral home and led to a gigantic iron gate. It was open, so I drove in. Acres and acres of perfectly manicured lawn were before me.

At this point, my head took over. “How am I going to find Daniel’s grave in all of this?” The thought nearly made me turn around and drive away. After all, I still needed to get to my friend’s house.

But a strange tugging seemed to pull me forward. I decided to go with it.

I drove ahead, but soon came to a fork in the road. “I think I’ll go…ummmm…left.” So I stayed left. I drove further. I passed rows and rows of gravestones. I passed trees. I saw a church on the right.

“I think I’ll stop…ummmm…here.” Nothing marked my stopping point. I just pulled over when it seemed my heart told me so.

I got out of the car and looked around me. I was surrounded by gravestones in every direction. “I think I’ll walk this way,” I thought. I went left. I didn’t hesitate at any row because something inside clearly knew where I was going.

I eventually stopped and turned right. I looked down at the gravestones in front of me. I saw three with my great grandparents’ names on them. Then I saw one that was different than the others—one with a tiny lamb—and my brother’s name carved across the top.

Quite unexpectedly, I was overcome with emotion. I fell to my knees and wept. I cried deep, gut-wrenching, uncontrollable sobs. It was as if 15 years of pain I had no idea existed came bubbling to the surface. It was absolutely unstoppable.

And in my head I’m thinking, “WHAT IS HAPPENING??”

Read Part 5 here.

Category: Deep Thoughts

Comments

One Response to “A Wounded Heart, Part 4”

  1. Carol Evans
    July 19th, 2005 @ 2:29 pm

    Oh Amy: I am reading this with tears in my eyes. My parents are buried at the same cemetary. Your description of everything is so precise.
    I look forward to sharing part 4.
    God Bless,
    Carol

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