I know how hard it was to be me in those earliest months, I can only imagine how difficult it was to voluntarily be around me. It hit me one day, at around six or seven months out, that my parents were grieving more than just the sweet little grandchild they had lost, but also their own daughter who had lost herself. Through the tears, and the pain, and the angry outbursts, my parents remained steadfast, returning to my side week after week. They would spend the day with me, and the evenings with me and hubs once he came home from work. I can't honestly say that I would have made it through without their support.
When my parents visit now, it is more to visit than to grieve. We have fallen into this wonderfully comfortable pattern of spending every Thursday together to talk, visit, and go to see Peyton's grave. I can't lie and say there are never tears, but for the most part, we have a nice day together. Even when I can't bear the idea of seeing anyone because I am feeling so low, a visit from my parents can make me feel better.
Last Thursday, I had to go in for a stress test at the cardiologist, and had to cancel our day together. To my surprise, my folks still made the hour long drive from their town to ours, to go see their little Peyton's grave, and deck it out for the holidays.
Today, for show and tell, I am sharing the pictures that they took, of their visit with Peyton, and the beautiful grave blanket they made for her.
A view at the head of the blanket.
I love this little Angel ornament. It seems so fitting.
Here is the view from standing back.
I love the way the grave blanket spans the distance between where Peyton is buried (beneath the garden) to the base of her plot where her stone is.
Here is a picture of my mother, Peyton's "Gramma", showing off her handiwork. Last year my parents bought Peyton a grave blanket from a local florist, this year they made this one by hand, choosing each piece that went into decorating it.
The wreath, which I had hung the day before their visit, was also a gift from my mother, which she gave me last year to use on Peyton's grave this Christmas.
I love these butterflies. My father put these on, since butterflies have always been associated with Peyton.
Here is a picture of my Father, Peyton's "Pop Pop" paying her a visit.
I am so grateful for these shots, because just a few days later, the entire hill is buried under eight inches of snow. It brings me comfort knowing my little one is warm beneath this blanket.
To see what others are showing and telling, visit here.