A friend suggested that I share this with you again.
I almost guarantee that no one has ever asked you that question before.
After my baby daughter died, I used to go to the cemetery a lot. Not like every day, but probably twice a week or so. My 3 year old daughter would come with me, of course, and she loved going. It was like a park to her. She could run around and I could feel comfort in being there. Now I cry my eyes out every time I go, and it’s been 33 years. But back then I didn’t cry at the cemetery, especially because of my other daughter running around. One day it occurred to my oldest daughter that maybe it was icky to be there, because she saw some other visitors crying. She asked me in a scared voice if my baby daughter was there. I told her no, she was in heaven, and this…
View original post 148 more words