Memorial Day

For years, I can remember my Grandmother going around to the cemeteries, and placing flowers on the graves. I didn't really understand what the hoopla was all about, when I was a kid. But as the years have rolled by, I feel a bit differently about this tradition, and cemeteries in general.
Growing up, cemeteries were always scary places. They had all those stones with the names of dead people, and they were creepy. I hated to go to the cemetery, cause I was just scared. And than when I was a teen-ager, I seemed to be leaving everyone I loved in a cemetery, and that didn't make it any better. And still I was scared, and it still seemed creepy.
Now, it is different. I don't go often to where my loved ones are buried. Why? Well, mostly because it is a drive to get there, and, well, there are so many things to do that finding the time is hard. But when I do get there, I no longer find it creepy. And in some ways, it is peaceful.
I often go with my daughter, who helps me place the flower arrangements around the stone. But sometimes, when she is busy, I go by myself. I clean the weeds and grass away, remove the old flowers, and place the new. And than I sit down and think. I touch the stone, as if in some way I can touch their faces once again. I talk to them, catch them up on what my kids have been doing. I tell them all about my grandkids, how they are growing and what they have been up to in school. I tell my grandfather how proud he would be of his great-grandsons, and how he would love to take them hunting and fishing. I tell my Mother and Grandmother about my granddaughter, and how proud they would be of her, so smart and pretty, and kind. And I feel bad that they will never know these people who mean so much to me. I am sad of the times we didn't get to spend together. Of all the times I so wanted to talk to them, and couldn't. Of what we missed. Of what we never had the chance to enjoy.
And I wonder what will happen when I am gone. Will my daughter continue to come and do the flowers as we have in the past? Or will they become a burden to her, through no fault of her own. She does have her own family to think of, and these are people she has never even met. And will my grandson feel creeped out in the cemetery? Will he not want to come to my final resting place because of that? I hope not. I hope that he will always be able to feel the love I have for him, and know that even death won't change that.
I often just wander around the smaller cemteries around my house, and I look at the stones. I wonder at the people who those stones represent. Some of the stones are now falling down, many no one places flowers around. Often you can't even read the stones anymore. But I touch the stones, and wonder at the life they represent. And sometimes just sit and listen, to see if I hear a story in the wind. And I no longer feel creeped out, but a sense of peace. These stones represent people, many who died way too soon, as did my Mother. They had people who loved them, and at one time missed them.
I still don't like death, but the cemeteries no longer creep me out. And now I understand why we spend all those days visiting the cemeteries and placing the flowers. My Grandmother understand, and now so do I. Maybe time does change a lot of things after all. So place a flower at a family member's grave, or if it is too far away, at a grave of someone you don't know that doesn't seem to have anyone. And close your eyes and listen. Did you feel that wisp of air along your cheek? That was a kiss from an angel, telling you thank you. Because as long as one person remembers, no one is truly forgotten. Happy Memorial Day Everyone.