Yesterday a close friend of mine showed me something on his phone that caught me by surprise. It was a picture of my Daughter’s burial site, along with an image of her headstone, the names of Her Dad and and me, Her obituary and cause of death. It even listed the “plot” number at the cemetery.
Other than blogging, and the occasional LinkedIn activity, I choose not to engage in “social media” per se. I find the comparison game to cause more harm than good. There are many benefits to the digital world, the least of which is not Zach’s (our 21 year old with special needs) ability to access the outside world from his iPad. I am grateful for technology.
But I also value privacy. Alexis died almost 25 years ago, and it took me until my 50s to start truly opening up about her life and death, and my feelings about all of it. Same for Emanuel’s life and death (see post 4/6/21.)
When Alexis was being discharged from Children’s Hospital to our care (with the help of Hospice) we had our hands full. We knew she would die. But every moment from the time we left CNMC to the day she took her last breath, nestled over my heart 8 days later was spent on her comfort, and being present. We weren’t funeral shopping. Our closest friends and family helped us with that.
Finding a cemetery for your child while they are dying is about the worst way to spend the last moments of her life. You might be surprised at how many rules and regulations govern whether or not you can purchase a burial plot in a given cemetery. It never occurred to me that we would find something that would “suffice” only to learn they were “full” or we weren’t welcome there (another chat altogether.)
By the Grace of God and by no accident, Alexis’ God Mother located a serene and private burial space in a country cemetery not far from our then home. The space was on the far periphery of the land which meant the headstone faced the tree line and woods. It felt private, and tender and sheltered. I was as grateful as one could be, considering.
Back to yesterday, imagine my surprise when I was staring at this private space, stark details of Alexis’ life and death posted on a website for all the world to see. My immediate response was “I feel so violated.” The website itself (which I will not advertise by naming) connected hundreds of thousands of burial sites not only in the US but around the World. “I guess we are global” was the second comment I could utter.
Reiterating my gratitude for all things digital, and my value of privacy I was literally shocked that all of this information was published, around the world no less, for anyone to view. What had been Sacred Ground since 1997 was now posted like a website dating profile. My little girl’s tender, serene spot where butterflies, bees and the smell of fresh cut grass that often keep me company, are on display in the most public way possible.
Drawing on my Stoic training and my Faith, I am not obsessed with this discovery. I can’t control these images or the distribution of them. I surrendered any feelings of attachment that arose, and let them go. I know better than to argue with reality (agree with Byron Katie on that.) Even if it means my assumption that I had “control” over the very few tangible remnants of Alexis’ 13 months & 5 days of life, was incorrect.
But I don’t have to like it.