Memorials

 On the way to school, we pass by a cemetery.  One day last year, Mason inquired as to what that place was.  Throughout many, many, conversations (almost every time we drove by), here's what we all learned:

1) Dead people are buried there.

2) The people were already dead when they got there, and were not buried alive.

3) The stones were not used to kill the people, but rather to write their names upon, as a way to remember them.

4) People visit the stones to grieve and remember the people they loved who have died.

5) Grandpa Floyd (whom none of our children were able to meet), is buried in a cemetery like the one we drive by.

6) Our souls are different than our bodies.  Our bodies wear out and die and go into the ground.  Our souls live forever in either heaven or hell.

7)  Heaven is a wonderful place where, not only do we get to be with Jesus every moment, but our bodies never get sick or die or wear out.

Since that time, our kids have been begging to visit a cemetery.  They were particularly interested in "visiting" Grandpa Floyd, since his wife, Grandma Thelma, is still with us and we love her so dearly.

So this year we arranged to bring Grandma to the cemetery for Decoration Day, which is what you call Memorial Day when you are 92 :).   All 3 kids were thrilled and made plans for the ways in which they could remember Grandpa Floyd by decorating his headstone.  They settled on each of them bringing a potato (Grandpa Floyd was a life-long potato farmer) and Lily bringing a watermelon seed (she loves the story of Grandpa helping daddy grow a bumper crop of watermelons one summer).  I shared their plans with Grandma before we went, and she giggled.  "I bet no one else's grave will have those kinds of decorations!", she said, smiling and shaking her head.

And so we went on the Sunday afternoon before Memorial Day a few weeks ago.  The weather was lovely, and the kids remembered their potatoes (though we forgot the watermelon seed).  Grandma led us right to Grandpa's grave, which was helpful because it's a rather large cemetery.  The kids were completely engaged for about 4 minutes, and then they ran about, Lily reading the names on graves and Nora picking everyone's beautiful flowers. 

I pointed out to Lily the little lambs that people often put on headstones to signify that the person was a child.  It made us both sad.  But sad is a funny thing when you don't know a person, and I could tell Lily was having trouble processing it.  Sometimes I do, too. 

We moved on to watering all the real flowers we could find.  I didn't know that cemeteries have hydrants throughout with little buckets for watering.  That's really, really nice.  My kids loved watering the flowers. 

I remembered when I used to be kind of freaked out by cemeteries in general.  Now I think I could walk around them all day.  They're significant and deep.  And they mean something.  Each stone represents a soul precious - so precious - to the King.  And to those who loved them.  Yes, they make me sad sometimes, and without a doubt, when more of those I love are buried there, they will make me very sad at times.  But it is good sometimes to be reminded of the brevity of this life.  I am always, always, struck by the fact that each person who has ever lived was just like me.  I think my own life matters so much - and it does, to me - but it is so short.  Everyone's life is short, even if you live to be 110. 

I think Grandma could have wandered around the cemetery all day too, if she was able.  Because all of her friends and most of her family are all buried there.  Because the kids were being wild and because Grandma wanted to see more than her physical body would let her, we got in the car and drove around looking at headstones.  I was amazed at how many Grandma knew personally.  They were her neighbors, classmates, cousins, aunts, uncles, community figures, and friends.  She has told me several times that an old neighbor (I can't remember his name) recently passed away, bringing with him the last connection with the old days.  She misses being able to reminisce with people who lived this life alongside her.  Growing old is a strange thing.

Overall, we had a wonderful time together at the cemetery.  I think Grandma enjoyed sharing her memories with us, and we enjoyed hearing them.  She always gets a kick out of the kids, and having them, with their 2-minute-or-less attention spans along was very good.  I'm thankful we got to share this special day with Grandma.