What is Buried in Your Front Yard?

The week after Brian died, I was out at the cemetery, and the mound of dirt just ticked me off. I went to the store and bought one of those cheap pinwheels, and decided then to always keep a pinwheel out at Brian's grave. I don't know what it was, mostly the movement and the colors, the feeling of knowing it kept blowing in the wind. As the months continued, we added and switched pinwheels several times. Some were just too worn from the weather; other times we found a fun pattern like a Spiderman pinwheel, and bought one for our house and one for Daddy's garden. These are usually about $1 so I just pick up any that I think look nice and swap them out. Tye often messes with the pinwheels when we are at the cemetery. I tried to move one the other day so it was closer to the monument, but he wanted it stuck straight in the middle of the rectangle of bare ground. I reminded him that the lawnmower would eventually run over it, but he didn't care. So I moved it when I was there later with Amberlea.

Put your lighthearted hat on or you won't fully appreciate the rest of the story...

I came home the other day and there is a pinwheel stuck in our yard. We keep one at our house a lot, so I didn't think much about it. But this one was stuck about an inch from the edge of the driveway. I just figured one of the kids moved it there from out of the flower bed.

He and I came home from school and I was sitting in a lawnchair reading a book. Tye drug out all of the toys from the garage. He had the wagons and scooters and tractor and a bike and a few trikes lined up. He was riding around in circles. He rode up to the pinwheel and jumped off and just squatted down and looked. I watched him examining the pinwheel.

Tye: Hey Mom, who's in here? (as he pointed at the yard)

Me: What?

Tye: You know, Mom, in here, who's garden is this?

Me: (I was a bit caught off guard and before I could answer...)

Tye: So is someone else's dad buried here?

Me: Oh, no...no one is buried here. They don't bury people in yards, they have to be buried in places like Daddy at a special garden called a cemetery.

Tye: Why is that wind thing here then?

Me: We just have it to remind us of Daddy.

Tye: Hmmm. Ok. (and he was off and running again)

I sure hope no one is buried in my front yard.