March 26, 2004
The Marker
This week has been a particularly difficult one for me, as grief reappeared in several new ways. After struggling to find out why Susan's grave marker had not yet been installed, I finally tracked it down and arranged for its placement. This coincided with the emergence of the first rose bud of the Spring on the bush in our front yard. I carefully clipped it, wrapped it in a paper towel, and took it with me as I set out on my usual Friday jaunt to take Tori (along with Kathy & Nate) to her regular appointment, and thence to our favorite Chick-Fil-A for lunch. After delivering the Schwarz's to their homeschooling co-op, I drove the 5 miles down to Restland Cemetery to see if in fact the marker had been placed.
It had.
Its newness contrasted strongly with its weathered companions near by in the Garden of the Gospels. The bright brass letters gleamed our names. The large letters of DISHMAN, were in the middle of the plaque, and then our two names on either side. To the left (non-standard I'm told) were mine, and on the right were hers: SUSAN GAYLE, August 30, 1943, July 28, 2003. In between was the usual flower vase, and a small marking stating our wedding date, July 10, 1965. And then below our surname was the last line from the hymn, "O Love That Will Not Let Me Go," which had so touched me in the weeks following Susan's death. That line reads, "And from the ground there blossoms red, life that shall endless be."
As I stood over my beloved wife's grave--and the empty spot that soon shall be mine--I couldn't help but remember those words from the Westminster Shorter Catechism (Question 37):
Q. 37. What benefits do believers receive from Christ at death?
A. The souls of believers are at their death made perfect in holiness, and do immediately pass into glory; and their bodies, being still united in Christ, do rest in their graves, till the resurrection.
That phrase, "their bodies, being still united in Christ, do rest in their graves, till the resurrection," comforted me. I was attached to that body that belonged to Susan Gayle Sanders Dishman. I cherished it like my own--even more than my own. I thought of it there in its casket below my feet, subject to decay, yet nevertheless still united to Christ. He cares for it still. She is not in that body that rests there. Her soul was made perfect in holiness and went immediately to glory at precisely 12:14 PM on Monday, July 28, 2003.
I placed the tiny rosebud in the flower vase and sat for awhile among the statues of the four Gospel writers. From that vantage point, about 20 yards away from her grave, the rosebud was barely visible. In my mind I thought of the groundskeeper approaching it and thinking the vase was empty because the bud was so small. As he is about to turn the vase over and insert it back in its storage spot he sees it is not empty after all. That tiny bud shows promise, and could possibly enlarge to a full size blossom. So he passes on by, perhaps even noticing how the bud and the epitaph tell a single message: and from the ground there blossoms red, life that shall endless be
