For once, I had a bit of a lull at work, so I took the day off. After Jude left with the boys to drop them off at school, I had a cup of coffee at Portland Brew in my neighborhood then drove an hour to Dickson Union Cemetery in Dickson, Tennessee. There, my mom is buried in her family's plot, beside her two sisters, Sue and Ann, and just below her parents, Robert and Mary Alice Ussery.
At heart and in many ways, my mom was a small town girl. It's appropriate, I guess, that she's buried in a cemetery in a small town.
Near the beginning of our week long vigil at St. Thomas Hospital last January - waiting for my mom's inevitable death after she suffered a stroke and brain bleed - I realized I had no idea where she was going to be buried. It was the one thing that had never crossed my mind and something that Tracy and I had never discussed. As I sat in the waiting room, my head spinning, I was lost until I ran into one of my mom's old friend's from Dickson. It was nothing more than serendipity.
Dan told me to call Tommy Marvin at Taylor Funeral Home in Dickson, Tennessee. "Tommy's a friend of the family," Dan said. "He'll know what to do." So, I called Tommy Marvin and true to form, he knew exactly what to do.
Tommy knew my mom and had handled the arrangements for my grandmother, Mary Alice Ussery, and later, for my grandmother's sister, Sara Dickson, when they died. I had met him a time or two, although I didn't remember him. I quickly realized he was a man my mom had talked about and liked, and had stayed in touch with after my grandmother died. I think she and my Aunt Sara took him to lunch a time or two. The point being, of course, is that he knew my family and, more importantly, my mom.
Tommy told me that he thought we had a family plot, or two, at Dickson Union Cemetery. He looked into it and, as it turned out, there was one spot left next to my mom's sisters in the Ussery family plot. I felt such sense of relief to know that my mom would be buried next to her sisters, whom she loved so much, and with her parents, too.
It's been a mild winter but it was a little cold and windy when I got out of my truck this morning began walking through the cemetery, looking for my mom's headstone. It was hard, at first, to get my bearings, and I zipped up my vest against the wind and continued walking. I was an odd sensation, walking alone through the cemetery, reading dates of death and birth on so many headstones in so many family plots. I thought about the fact that each one of the people buried there had been a cherished and loved family member - a mom, dad, grandmother, grandfather, brother, sister, son, daughter. So many lives lived.
Slowly, I got my bearings, and within 10 minutes or so, I saw the large, gray "Ussery" marker. I walked up and there I was, staring down at my mom's headstone. I sat down for a few minutes, lost in thought and alone with my memories.
As I sat there in the wind, I told my mom that the boys were doing fine and that Joe had been so very excited when he lost his first front tooth earlier this week. I told her the boys had fun playing basketball this fall. I told her I missed her. I told her I loved her. Then, I said a prayer.
I stood up and took one last, long look at my mom's headstone. Then, I walked back to my truck.
Happy Birthday, Meemaw. I miss you and the boys miss you.
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