Memorial Day

Here's some ketchup on Memorial Day:

 Bill, Mauri and I decided to attend a Memorial Day service at our local cemetery.

I remember last year thinking that we needed to be more patriotic. That we should do something MORE in commemoration of those who have served our country AND of our own dearly departed. My friend who sings in the Parker Chorale had mentioned the choir would be singing at the service, so I figured it would be the perfect Memorial Day morning activity. When I asked my friend what time she would be at the cemetery, she said 9am.  I worked it into our schedules and we headed out. I have to mention that I did have the thought to go online to do a quick time/fact check, but gave it no heed. Why do I do that to myself?

I also need to mention that in the 11+ years we have lived here, I have never, no, not once, stepped foot in the cemetery that is located in the heart of the town. I have passed by it thousands of times (at least). I have glanced in it's direction. I have occasionally seen people there. 

I was kind of excited to go.

When we arrived, there were not a lot of people around. Maybe it's a private service, I thought. We could see that the choir was getting set up, but there was no sign of my friend. We decided to take a walk around while we waited for the service to begin... hopefully around 9:15? 9:30?

It was quite fascinating. I don't think I've ever been to a cemetery like this one ever before. It is rustic. VERY rustic. From the occasional spigot with a hose attached, I could tell there is not, nor has there ever been, a sprinkling system (so that's why it's brown all summer long). There were all types of headstones; from beautiful and ornately carved granite stones to weathered pieces of sandstone with indiscernible writing (another friend we ran into at the cemetery called it a "genealogist's nightmare"). There were plastic flowers, thriving iris plants, bushes, benches, statues, wrought iron crosses, and all other sorts of memorabilia and grave decoration. The mound of dirt covering a somewhat new grave apparently stays a mound of dirt until the natural ground cover (that turns brown in the heat of the summer) takes over. I supposed that people who want a flowering plant or bush to thrive near their loved one's grave marker have the option to come and water with a hose.  New graves were next to old graves that were next to new graves that were next to very old graves. 

I have always been interested in what is printed on headstones... tiny bits of a person's life. Motorcycles... cars... horses... sometimes even a picture of the person. I saw one headstone with the word

"Beloved." 

THAT, I decided, is what I hope people will think of me.

After the initial thought of an uncaring groundskeeper or cheap landowner passed through my mind, the natural landscape and haphazard placement of graves began appealing to me. I think some of the fuss around death and burial has become less of what it REALLY is: progression. I will refrain from going into my lengthy thoughts and supporting reasons for why I'm good with a no-fuss-put-me-in-the-ground-don't-worry-if-I'm-comfortable-or-pretty type of deal. I might need to put it in a will.

I figured this type of cemetery would be right up my ally. Until my genealogist friend mentioned it cost a boatload to be buried there. It does have a nice view (like that matters?).

In case you can't read this one (a favorite): 

Johnathan H. Tallman

Aged 25 Years

Killed by Indians

May 8, 1870 

I couldn't help snapping a pic of this one. We decided that Dorothy must have loved being a hairstylist.

Note to family: I would rather have "Beloved." Even if I put a comb and shears on my business checks, I don't want it etched in stone. Thank you.

After meandering around for 45 minutes, we realized that the Memorial Day service wasn't going to begin until 10. We did not bring sunscreen. We did not bring chairs. We did not bring water bottles (although some nice people were handing some out). My Chorale friend was a no-show.

We decided to forego the service and get on with our day, vowing that next year we would be better prepared AND show up at the right time.

I snapped this quick pic before we headed out:

That afternoon we had a neighborhood get-together

complete with a bouncy house in the culdesac.

The Billats shared their blow-up water slide,

and our neighbors hosted on their driveway.

The weather was quite cooperative (maybe a bit cool towards the end for the water slide kids), and it was fun to chat with neighbors we haven't talked to all winter. Perfect.

Next up: Mar's end of year Napoleon Dynamite party.