TheBanyanTree: Buying Candy for a Dead Man

[Margaret R. Kramer]

10/13/98
I love you too Mrs. (hope to be) P*****
Always will!!
Ray

I can’t go visit Ray without bringing him something.  Why is that?  I feel
weird visiting his grave and not having something in my hand to give him.
Maybe it’s because I talk to him morning, noon, and night, and talk is talk
and words floating in the air are not the stuff we can put our hands around
and touch.  But when I see him at Fort Snelling, I want to give him
something physical, something of this world,  so he knows I’m still thinking
of him.  And maybe in his spiritual state, I’m giving him something to touch
from the earth, something he can remember, and these physical objects might
help him keep his tenuous connection to me.

The first time I visited him, I brought a stone, just like the Jewish people
do.  Ray loved interesting rocks and I have them in small stashes all over
the house.  My youngest grandson loves rocks, too, and he adds his own
beauties to Ray’s collection.

Then as I got better organized, I bought plastic flowers from Michaels.  I
keep them in my car sp I’m ready with a gift for my sweetheart Ray for
whenever I head to the cemetery.  If the cemetery didn’t remove them, the
flowers I have brought for my dear Ray would cover an entire section of the
cemetery.  I love to reduce the harshness of his stone with the gentle
curves of flowers.  Even if they’re fake and plastic, they help brighten up
the somberness of his death for me.

I always approach his grave with tentative steps.  I look for his stone like
I would look for Ray in a crowd of people.  I search for a familiar
identifier, the beard, the cap, the glasses, or the smile.  I try to catch
his eye . . . and then I see his name starkly carved into the stone.  I can’
t see his eyes after all, I can only see his name written on death’s list.
And then I walk those final steps to his grave and I cry.

Then I leave my gift of flowers or a stone.  And I caress his gravestone
like I did his body.  I want to crawl to him and bury myself in the earth.
Oh, it’s never easy for me to visit my husband.

But during one visit, I saw someone had left a cupcake at one grave.
Another left a coffee mug and donuts along with a cigarette and matches.
Another one has an old cassette tape nearby.  Someone left Peeps at another
grave.

And so I got this idea . . .

And now I buy candy for a dead man.  Last week, I left a can of Pepsi and
some Tootsie Rolls for Ray.  I wasn’t ready when I went to the cemetery
today with Joe, but I left my name tag from grief group for Ray.  When I
went grocery shopping this afternoon, I bought some Halloween Peeps and some
other candy for him.  I’m all set for many visits to come.

Ray will now be able to enjoy his flowers while drinking Pepsi and eating
his candy.  He always kept a candy stash at home, so now he’ll have one
graveside, too.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
margaret.kramer at polarispublications.com
www.polarispublications.com

People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of
life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they
continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive.  It
is as though they were traveling abroad.  ~Marcel Proust
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