Choosing a Tombstone: A Decision I Never Imagined Making

As we approach the one-year anniversary of Sana’s passing, we find ourselves faced with yet another heartbreaking decision—choosing her tombstone. Pink or grey? A question so simple, yet so impossibly heavy. I have always helped Sana make choices—picking out her clothes, suggesting what to eat, helping her decide between two things when she couldn't make up her mind. She was so wonderfully indecisive, often turning to me with a smile, saying, “Mom, you decide.” But this? How do I decide something so final? For the first time, I ask myself—does it even matter? The color, the design—will any of it bring her back? Will it ever feel right? Yesterday, I spoke with my dear friend Mamta, and inevitably, the conversation circled around Sana. We reminisced about her kindness, her sweet nature, and the many lives she touched. Mamta’s son, Romu, was one of Sana’s closest childhood friends. They shared an unbreakable bond, one that stayed strong even as they grew older. He is now in residency, but when Sana was in palliative care, he was there with her, making her laugh even in those final days. She loved him dearly. Mamta told me how deeply her son has been affected by Sana’s passing, how it has changed him, just as it has changed all of us who loved her. And now, as we stand at this point in our grief, we are being asked to make a decision about the stone that will mark her resting place. How ironic is life? One moment, you’re helping your child pick out a dress, and in the blink of an eye, you’re selecting the color of her tombstone. It’s a choice no parent should ever have to make. And yet, here we are. Perhaps the choice isn’t in the color of the stone but in how we carry her memory forward. In the kindness she left behind, in the laughter she shared, in the love she so freely gave. Maybe that’s what truly matters.