It was just a few days before Christmas. It was Saturday, and Carol was at work. A big storm was moving in. I wanted to be sure to go to the cemetery before the snow came to “tidy up” the gravesite of my in-laws, Carol’s parents, Rosalie and Vincent Martone. Carol and I made regular visits to Westfield Cemetery to make sure the gravesite was properly groomed, to water the flowers … Carol made sure to place a special wreath on the center headstone with each changing of the season … and to just visit. We missed them so much, and now, when the winter snow came, the ground, and yes, their graves, would be covered with snow for several months. So, with a good winter thus far, meaning that here it was, days before Christmas, and there was no snow. But, we both knew that would change soon. If we were going to do any work at the cemetery, today, Saturday, may be our last chance before spring.

Upon arriving, I parked, as always, under the big maple tree just to the side of the dirt road which led from the center of the cemetery to just to the right side of their resting place. I spent a few minutes just visiting, talking to them both (you understand what I mean). It was especially sad today, because it was just before Christmas, which was their favorite time of the year. They loved the whole Christmas season, but especially the times spent with close family. Today was Saturday. We would have had the big family

Christmas party at their house … tonight. And they would have been at our home on Christmas Eve, just a couple of days away.

After spending a few minutes visiting, and let’s face it, mostly thinking about how much I miss them, how much it just doesn’t seem like Christmas anymore without them, just thinking … just thinking … I just got jolted with a new idea for a poem … It just encompassed my entire being, it was something I had to write, and I had to write … right now … right here.

Right!

Right here in the middle of the cemetery, I was going to write a poem. Right!

Those of you who write, know exactly how and what I felt. I had to grab a paper and pen and jot down notes.  But, this was different from the usual “wake up in the middle of the night, and grab a pen” scenario. It was the same feeling I get when God gives me something specific to write … I have to write it down, and I have to write it down now. And, fast. I don’t know how many times I’ve come running in from working in the yard, with a “get out of my way!!!” mentality, racing into the office to grab a pen and paper, having to write down a new revelation which God has just given me. I’ve written on bird feed bags, cardboard scraps, etc., being afraid I would lose the thought before I made it back into the house.

The words, “I stopped by your place for Christmas, the place where you always stay” kept racing through my mind, and I had to get this written down right now, right here!

I raced to the van … my trusty pen was there, where it always was, in the heater/air conditioner vent. Now, I reached for the note pad I always kept on the dashboard … but it wasn’t there! I frantically searched the van, under the seats, in the glove box/compartment, but I had no paper! Where was the note pad I always kept in the van??? It wasn’t there! I tore through the glove box. The only paper, of any kind, I could find, was a bank deposit envelope. Being ever frugal, I kept one on hand, so that I wouldn’t have to use a new one from the bank each time I made a deposit.

I had no choice. The bank deposit envelope had bank advertising all over it. There wasn’t enough room to put my initials between the sentences. So, I tore open the bank deposit envelope, making a single sheet, of sorts, on the inside. Fortunately, they weren’t frugal enough to realize the inside is blank, and would make a great place to advertise their interest rates. Now, I had my pen, and paper. But, where to write? I had no clip board, or anything in the van to place behind the paper, to support the paper as I wrote (the bank was frugal enough to buy cheap paper).

I remember, clearly, the teardrops falling on the paper, as I wrote the words …

I STOPPED BY YOUR PLACE FOR CHRISTMAS

It was one week before Christmas

Exactly, to the day

I stopped by your place

The place where you always stay

The sun was so bright

The sky was so blue

As I stood there and cried

As I stood between you two

The day was so bright

Not a cloud in the skies

As the sunlight glistened

Off the tears in my eyes

I came by your place

To tidy up a bit

Ready to work

All I could do was just sit

I came with some tools

To work on the flowers

Today may be sunny

But tomorrow night, snow showers

It made me think how fast

Life changes from day to day

One Christmas you’re here

The next, you’re gone away

 Gone to a place

We’ll all go some day

It made me wonder if people would visit my place

Or would they stay away

As I stood and pondered

Your rose-colored stone

In the midst of a field of monuments

To loved ones now gone

 I loved you both and miss you so dear

Another Christmas will come, that I wish you were here

I’ll remember that Christmas was your favorite time of year

I thank God for the memories

Of holidays spent

All of us together

I wonder, where has the time went

I know that one day

We may

Move away

Where ever we go

It is here you must stay

You’ll both always be part of our Christmas

We’ll remember the love and joy on your faces

And know you’ll always be together with us

We’ll just spend Christmas in different places

Richard.Vincent.Rose

Written at Westfield Cemetery

Danielson, CT 

12/18/04