Last Thursday I finally want to the memorial gardens where Hudson is buried to pick out a grave marker. Yes - 5 months after the fact I am doing this. Why did it take me so long? I have no idea why. Maybe it's because it's a final step - seeing his name on the bronze marker. My grandfather and great-aunt a buried right near Hudson and seeing their names in bronze just makes it feel so final; like it's the end. Now obviously I know that it is their end on earth; I know that somehow Hudson is not going to miraculously be here again, but it's still something that just feels off.
Today the cemetery sent me a proof with his name and the date on it - they could not fit the full name, but that's okay. Later in the day I went on a test drive with a couple (no, I do not go on test drives often - never really, but I was needed...) and of course the wife was pregnant - due in August. I heard the complaining and the "ready to get him out" comments, answered the "do you have any kids" question (to which I simply stated - yes, my husband and I have a little boy), and all of the other little pregnancy tidbits. I still get so irritated hearing pregnant women complain. I can seriously feel my brain on fire with emotion.
This whole situation has taught me a lot about what to say around strangers and when around others. Never will I complain about things around people I don't know because who knows what they could have been through. Never will I ask strangers if they have any children because of the uncomfortable way it might make them feel. Of course I am comfortable talking about Hudson all day long, but others won't find it that way. I have never been the type of person to do the things mentioned above, but now I make even more of an effort not to.
2 days ago