Cemetary Musings

Cemetary Musings

I spent pleasant afternoons this week strolling through a large cemetary in Fremont. Ohio, seeing loss and love displayed

Pondering the gravestones that were so old that  I could not read the name or the year

Some  had no name – only the word FATHER or MOTHER was clear. 

Some stones had been damaged by time and weather  and were crumbling off their footings.  I wondered if “their people” had died or moved away or were just unable or uninterested in repairing the damage

Graves that were newer may have  a name and only the date of birth - attesting to the preparedness of the person who is yet to die.  There were many double stones where one partner’s life was over and the other  was waiting to join them.

One section by the road held several older  graves of very young children.  They have angel decorations and often noted the number of days that they had lived.  I can only imagine the heartbreak of a stll birth or perhaps birth defects.  

The recent graves often have pictures and details about the life that has been lived  Children and pets names are listed on the back of the stone and maybe a tractor, a typewriter, a race car, a fishing rod, a college on the front. The years in military service are often listed as are the dates of marriage.  One stone pictured the wedding rings and “17, 955 days.”  (I did the math – 49.1 years)

I take a picture of the gravestone of a young boy’s grave  with a half dozen pictures of him from toddler to teen. There is a quote from Dickens:  “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”

I see a plate with a line from   Sarah McLaughlin ‘s song “In the arms of the angel.”  And I find myself humming that song as I walk among these who are remembered.

It is all life affirming for me as I realize that I have already lived longer than so many who are resting here.  And that Chuck lived longer than most.

I have peace with my decision to not put Chuck’s ashes in the ground. Instead I wear them in a heart on a chain and he goes everywhere with me.

But as I walk through this holy space I picture the stone that could be his:

I would include a caricature of  him running that he had on his stationary that captures his spirit of adventure.

His name – Charles Truex   and also: “Chuck”  “Walleye Willie”

The years – February 7, 1936-December 24, 2018

And like the plaque that Audrey put in the bench in the back yard it would say:

“We miss you every day,”