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Rated: E · Editorial · Religious · #1031944
Reflection on the Resurrection.

Just before Easter in 2004, I read an article about visiting the graves of our loved ones, especially on the Holidays. I realized that I had overlooked Easter as one to visit my parent's graves. I certainly do not go as often as I should or would like to. This article made me begin to ask myself why I don't go more often. I have been without either parent for most of my adult life, and while it is sad to say, the truth is, their physical presence has never been a part of my daily life. Their presence though, is in my heart and mind.

Almost every day, they are in my thoughts and memories, and are a big part of my day. It is because of Easter that I have peace and don't visit their graves. They both died in Christ, this I know. I do not go there to be close to them, precisely because of the Easter miracle. Because of that glorious day, they are with Christ. Only their earthly bodies are buried in the cemetery. I know they are present physically in the graves, but I also know that they are with me in my heart, every day, with every task I do.

I can pray for them anywhere and anytime, especially at the Mass, and I can ask for their prayers. I can say a prayer for my mother, as I try to cook this Easter dinner, remembering how she used to make it, and ask for her prayers that it comes out half as good. I can pray for my father, as we serve the ham, remembering how he enjoyed carving and serving each plate with the slice that he knew was the perfect piece for you. I can ask for his prayers that every person at the table be blessed with the kinds of love and memories, which I carry in my heart every day.

One thing I've learned through the years is that every single person grieves the loss of someone differently. It is a personal thing, and we never completely finish grieving, but we can heal. And for many, frequent visits to the cemeteries are a part of the healing process. But we can rejoice this Easter and always, and hope in the Easter promise that, one day, we will also live with him. I guess I do visit them each and every Easter, and every holiday, and every day for that matter. I visit them in my heart, and I lift them in my prayers every day, right from the pew at church, or from my car, or from the kitchen sink.

Perhaps I will visit them again at the cemetery in the next few weeks to come. But I will go to remind myself that they are not there, for they have risen with Christ.


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