Why did they have to run the sprinklers during memorial day weekend when it was still fully daylight outside? Couldn't they have set them to run after 9 PM when it was getting dark and people weren't as likely to show up and try to put flowers on graves? I seethed with negativity. Yes, even I occasionally get steeped in negativity.
We sat in the car for a few minutes, hoping the sprinklers might cycle to a different location so we could still go see his marker and place flowers by it, but to no avail. So we got out, determined to quickly place the flowers, try to get a quick picture, and then head back to the car. It was not what I had envisioned--I planned to sit at his grave site and have a deep conversation with my children about how Gideon had changed each of them. How were we going to make that happen?!
I am so blessed, though, to be a mother, and to have the perspective of children thrust upon me with regularity. I hurried the flowers to Gideon's grave and took a quick picture. The sprinklers were coming around, so we dashed away for a minute.
After the sprinklers went around, I got everyone together (even my shadow) and we did a family picture at his grave. I didn't even have a whole lot of time to try and get everyone to look at me. The water was coming around again.
After that picture, (and after the water had come around again and I had a minute) I stood at Gideon's grave marker, lost in my own little bubble for a brief time. Before I shuttled everyone to "safety" when the sprinklers got close to where I was, my children had seized the opportunity to enjoy them. They did not trod on any grave markers (we've talked about that), but they started reaching their hands into the water, and getting a little wet in the mist. 
What had been deep feelings of frustration and heaviness began to melt away as I heard my children laughing and enjoying themselves, and I thought a lot about this as a metaphor for life. How many times have I been presented with a trial or a challenge that messes up what I had in mind for myself? I get irritated, overwhelmed, frustrated, and I want to complain about and avoid the situation instead of embracing it as an opportunity. Less than ideal situations often present themselves, they are just a part of life, but I was strongly reminded that I can either be upset about these moments, or view them as a chance to make the most of it, which, in this case, probably ended up being more than I would have originally made it. In so many ways, that is EXACTLY what Gideon's medical issues and then death have done for us--we were given multiple really tough scenarios to deal with, and we're doing our best to make the most of them and to learn from this challenge.
Later that evening, I looked back at the pictures I had taken and noticed that in the first picture, (my evidence that I planned to share so that I could complain) it was cloudy overhead and the picture is colored with shadow and gloom, and in all the later pictures when we went out to "make the most of it", the sun has come out, and they are more bright and vibrant. I am pretty sure that's also a metaphor for life--when we grudgingly face life's challenges, we really peer through dimmer lenses than when we open our hearts and give each situation a chance.
We were still able to talk about how Gideon has changed our lives, but we did it in the car on our way away from the cemetery. I wrote the things my children said down in a journal entry. Largely, they are learning many of the same things that I've posted about here on my blog. My oldest child remarked that he takes the choices he makes more seriously now, and in some ways, that is more confusing. My daughter remarked that she has thought about ways she could live to be able to see Gideon again, and wants to do things to help her be more like Jesus. One of my boys mentioned that before Gideon, death seemed really scary to him, but now it doesn't seem as bad. My 5 year old didn't have much to say about how Gideon changed him, but he does miss Gideon, and still talks about him. And Scott and I have been changed in so many ways it's hard to describe them all (but that's what this blog is for.) So the conversation didn't happen exactly the way I thought it would, but it still happened, and I'm pretty sure we'll ALWAYS remember this year's Memorial Day weekend, when the kids played in the sprinklers at the cemetery.
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