I went to Holy Cross Cemetery in New Jersey today. I visit each Memorial Day. I have an Uncle who died at the Battle of the Bulge buried there. I never knew him, but I have thought of him often over the years.
I wonder what he might have become, I wonder about the cousins I never had, I wonder if my grandma might have lived longer instead of succumbing to an early death that claimed her broken heart.
Cemeteries make me wonder. There is a treasure trove of information just waiting to be found if one looks for it.
After visiting my uncle’s grave, I wandered through a field where no bodies resided. But treasures still lay in the grass.
This one……..a Christmas ball ……..long blown astray. Grandma’s Christmas ball. I am a grandma now; which makes this especially poignant. One wonders about Christmases in the future, one wonders about grandchildren who bring an ornament to the grave instead of visiting for a Christmas dinner. I lost both my grandmas when I very little, too little to have known either one of them.
Then a few more steps.……a penny in a red organza bag. Unclaimed by any cemetery resident, lying alone in the grass. One wonders if the family member is often visited by pennies from heaven and wanted to repay a debt. Or perhaps the cemetery resident collected pennies, perhaps her name was Penny…….my writer’s mind begins to weave a tale each step.
Then, it was time to return to my car. I passed an interesting stone……an interesting name. I wonder if Lena thought Louis was her Knight in Shining Armor. Even knights and their ladies must come to rest one day.
There is a story in each stone and every step if you look for it and that is why I walk in cemeteries.
More cemetery tales may be found in my books………