stupid but important

It was so stupid but yet so important.  

We were sitting in the office at the cemetery signing papers for the burial plot.  The lady kept making sure she spelled Chayton's name correctly on all the paperwork.  As I watched her write his name over and over again on numerous documents, I began to have some kind of resentment fill up in my heart.  It was so strange, but I realized right then that I had never actually written my son's name yet!  And for some reason, it felt extremely personal.  Watching a complete stranger write Chayton's name over and over again seemed wrong to me.  It was so silly.  It was just his name.  But to me it felt like such an intimate thing in the moment.  She was writing his name yet I, his mother, had never done so.

I came home from the meeting and grabbed the nearest notebook.  I scribbled his name over and over again across the page.  I didn't want to witness one more person writing his name before I could.  I felt so much better after seeing his name in my handwriting.