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The evening of our anniversary, Mr. Pete and I decided to put some flowers on little Raphael’s grave. We had just shared a nice long weekend with our other children and it seemed appropriate to acknowledge our little baby in the cemetery as well on our wedding anniversary.

When we arrived at the cemetery there was another couple there with flowers and balloons for their baby. They looked young, probably very early twenties. The young man wore jeans and a simple cotton shirt with a collar. The young lady wore jeans and a denim top. She had very short hair with a Mohawk style, glasses and a piercing on her lip. They looked surprised to see us.

I quickly emptied the dried flowers from Raphael’s vase and dumped the water. Then I walked over to the water faucet to get some fresh water for the vase. Mr. Pete set about artistically arranging the flowers.

I guess the young lady was curious about us. She asked Mr. Pete, “Are you the grandpa?”

That was a first for Pete. On the other hand I have been asked several times if I am a grandma of my own children. Pete laughed lightly as he often does and told her, “No, this is one of my boys.”

I returned with the water, we put in the flowers and said a little prayer for Raphael to continue to pray for both of us and for his brothers and sisters too.

As we turned to leave the young man was sitting cross legged in front of the grave marker rubbing it with cloth. He looked very close to tears. The young woman was still standing. She looked numb.

I came over and asked, “Is it your baby’s birthday?” I glanced at the stone and saw that it was the baby’s birthday to heaven. Their little baby had died a year ago that day. I commented on what a lovely name they had chosen for their child and then I looked her in the eye and told her how sorry I was for their loss. I saw tears well up in her eyes when she said, “You too.”

I opened my arms to give her a hug and she readily accepted my embrace. I held for for a few seconds, rubbing her back and then let go and said good bye. They both sadly smiled and wishes us a good night, although I don’t think the young man ever lifted his face.

I asked Pete in the van if he I was out of line, but he said, “they both looked like they needed a good hug.” I wished then I had one of those Mother’s Manuals with me in the car and vowed that for now one I will always carry a spare for such occasions.

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