The curtain behind the casket is where we buried Camille.
We buried Camille indoors in a mausoleum. We wanted to have our own graves next to hers. We wanted to be comfortable when we visited her grave, not hurried because we were baking in the Vegas heat. It is quiet inside and air-conditioned. It is peaceful.
Last Sunday we went to visit Camille's grave. This was our second visit since the funeral. The only marker for her grave still looks like this:
I look forward to the day they get her marker put up with her picture on it and a vase we the girls can put treasures in for her.
So, last Sunday we were at the mausoleum sitting on a couch there facing Camille's grave. The mood was thick and peaceful. I turned to Sabrina and out of curiosity asked her if she had heard any more messages from Camille. (She has, in the past 7 weeks, relayed to me some simple truths she has heard Camille whisper to her mind and heart.)
"No, nothing." she said. Then about 30 seconds later she turned back to me and said, "Oh wait. I just got one."
I smiled at how promptly this prompting came to her. Convenient.
"What did she say?" I asked.
She looked at me with a face that held no guile and replied simply "Have Fun."
Sabrina then started a game of chase with her sisters and they spent the next 20 minutes running around the mausoleum, laughing, screaming in delight and playing. They had fun.
As I watched them, I thought to myself how real that prompting must have been. I could feel Camille there watching her sisters in their play. Watching them just as she did as the littlest among them. Watching with delight in her eyes, cheered by their cheer, giggling at their giggles, wanting so much to really be able to join in the fun.
I have no doubt this simple directive was indeed straight from our littlest lady. May we all follow this counsel today, especially with the little ones in our lives. "Have Fun."