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I walked past headstones old and crumbling and others newer, past decaying flowers and planted flowers and fake flowers: while hidden birds sang me a symphony and squirrels scampered, and then, I was standing at the family grave reading the names, Mom had just died, dad, my sister and grandma were gone too; just names engraved in cold stone for eternity, I stood weeping. My secret inner voice was chattering, murmuring, whispering, crying you need to go to the cemetery office, there is something: there it told me, something you need to know, I was so confused, leaving the rose bouquet I had brought, I retraced my steps, at the office I gave my name and the plot number and said; I would like the names of all buried there (where did that come from.) Waiting as the lady checked, my subconcious was talking, done with her search she told me the name of all I expected: and then she said something I could not believe ... and the baby, I heard myself ask, the date of death, and I thought I would faint , you see I gave birth as a teen on exactly that day years ago; and had been told my baby boy had been adopted from the hospital. I had to swallow my hurt and I asked her can I still engrave his name, yes, she said, and we worked out the details and I paid for it; we will call when done ... I left thinking why, why was I not told, my mother never told me, even on her death bed she revealed nothing, and what of my father, or my grandma, never a word did they say; over the following days I talked with my concealed inner voice. I wept tears and tried to imagine my baby boy in my arms again, the same word echoing, repeating, why, why, why, why, why, why: went back when the engraving was done, he had a name, he existed, not some dirty secret, buried ... I have learnt overtime to forgive them; though will never understand, but I believe in God and he told me to.
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