of stone and God thinking of me

I stopped in at a marble tile and counter company yesterday. Just to look and see what they might have for lovely stone for a possible memorial for Paige. As I drove up the long driveway, I could see hundreds of huge counter top slabs, some 10 feet long and just as tall, lined up like dominoes, making an "S" through the large yard. Did they carry memorial stones? No. She gave me the names of a couple local monument companies. "Hmm" I said. "But who wants to go to a monument company? They're way too gloomy and funeral-y." She told me that some people buy slabs like this to make into flush monuments. "Good." I said. "I'll look around."

Paige loved rocks. She loved throwing rocks. I love looking at rocks. When I was a little girl, one of my favorite summer pastimes was sifting through the sand by the side of the road, looking for tiny garnet fragments. I went panning for gold in Vermont one summer and found hundred and hundreds of marble-sized garnets. I design jewelry, and love buying and owning and sorting and touching all of the various stone beads, more than I like making anything. And so this yard, filled with hundreds of slabs of granite, marble, and all kinds of amazing conglomerations was wonderful. And sad.

I found three I loved. One had garnet pebbles all throughout, another had a background that was a blue/grey/almost purple. (I was on the hunt for something in the purple family. It was my favorite color to dress Paigey in.) The yard attendant came out to help me, and when I told her I was looking for something purple, suggested I might like something called "blue eyes." I did. It was gorgeous, and had amazing iridescent bluish lavender spots.

On the way into the showroom to write down my favorites, I said, "She was two." And started to cry. The attendant touched my back sympathetically. When we stepped inside, I heard the most beautiful piano music playing. It was Billy Joel. Playing "Goodnight My Angel" the song we had at Paige's memorial service.