I walked to the Cemetery after work yesterday. It was a work-related task (deciphering between what our Town Cemetery map said and the reality). My goal was to find what family plot was available for a daughter to bury her mother and also her eventual resting spot.
It sounds a little gruesome. My co-workers suggested I go after dark (who can stay awake that long I wonder??) and they would come out and scare me. I chose daylight hours and looked forward to the nice, long walk on a perfect day.
I found the family I was looking for immediately. Our cemetery map contained errors and once I oriented myself to the map I had in hand, I replayed the conversation I had with the daughter and filled in a few of the blanks.
As the daughter spoke to me yesterday, I immediately thought of the conversations I had with Mom. Mom often spoke of her family members, she saved funeral cards, obituaries and had a small collection of the history books from nearby towns. If Mom didn't know an answer, she had her siblings and resources to seek her answers.
This particular daughter didn't have siblings to turn to, to help decipher some of the information we were seeking yesterday. I told her I would put on my detective hat and do my best to find what we needed to know.
Our family has some people who are true family historians. They have searched out family trees and we are the benefactors of their knowledge. I'm more of a story-person, so I collected memories, stories and history of life-as-they-knew-it.
I collected Mom's family's stories right from the source. Mom, her three sisters and sister-in-law were happy to contribute to the book. When I collected Dad's family's stories, they were from five of seven of Dad's brothers (as well as their wives, children, friends and neighbors). All of Mom's family and two of Dad's brothers have died since their memories were put into writing, leaving us with the family lore they spoke of and the memories that were captured within the pages of history books and family memories.
I couldn't help but think of the stories and memories held within the cemetery. Everyone has a story. I hope they had a chance to leave their mark.
I had hoped Nature would pull out a small wonder for me to relay to the daughter I spoke to yesterday. The closest I got was spotting a gopher in the entrance of the cemetery. Never to be seen again.
I have no mystical story to relay. Simply a respectful and peaceful reflection honoring those who were laid to rest.
Sharing your story with your family and friends is a gift. Something to hold onto as time passes.
