Each year Memorial Day brings back memories to me. Not of those that the day is established to remember - but of my grandparents. Being raised in the south, Decoration Day was what I remember. This consisting of preparing in advance as I recall. We would go out in the country to the old cemetery where some of my ancestors were buried. We would make sure the gravesites were clean and place flowers there. In my memory - which is not always accurate - the actual Decoration Day would be the next day. What I recall about that is that it was a time to remember those who had passed on and visit with those who remained. It consisted of meeting in the old church for a sermon and then having a picnic outside by the cemetery.
While some of that is muddled in my memory - what is not muddled is the trips to the cemetery with my grandparents. I loved the trips out to the country. It was always interesting to me to ride out to where my dad grew up. It also seemed so far out there, as back then we weren't as mobile of a society. Once we got there, we were reminded about the respect we were to show. My sister and I were scared that we were going to inadvertly step on a grave and were quite fearful of what would happen - not at the hand of our grandparents but the superstitious happenings.
I can still see my granddad in his hat and my grandmother in her dress getting out of the car and walking up to the cemetery. I can picture my grandmother walking through the gravesites recalling different people that she had known. Taking her time and really remembering. It seems to me that my grandmother, more than anyone I've known, was always at peace in a cemetery. I never understood that growing up. Looking back I think she was looking forward to the time her body would be at rest and she would be in the arms of the Lord.
Sweet memories on this day of remembrance.
While some of that is muddled in my memory - what is not muddled is the trips to the cemetery with my grandparents. I loved the trips out to the country. It was always interesting to me to ride out to where my dad grew up. It also seemed so far out there, as back then we weren't as mobile of a society. Once we got there, we were reminded about the respect we were to show. My sister and I were scared that we were going to inadvertly step on a grave and were quite fearful of what would happen - not at the hand of our grandparents but the superstitious happenings.
I can still see my granddad in his hat and my grandmother in her dress getting out of the car and walking up to the cemetery. I can picture my grandmother walking through the gravesites recalling different people that she had known. Taking her time and really remembering. It seems to me that my grandmother, more than anyone I've known, was always at peace in a cemetery. I never understood that growing up. Looking back I think she was looking forward to the time her body would be at rest and she would be in the arms of the Lord.
Sweet memories on this day of remembrance.
2 comments:
I remember going with Grandmama and Granddaddy to the cemetery. When I went with Dad last summer to Old Hickory memories came flooding back. I have taken the kids and Noreen since then. I remember also when I stayed over there and Granddad was at work, Grandmother and I would walk over to the cemetery down on Church street and Grandmother would pull the weeds even from some graves she did not know. Then we would walk over to someones house to visit and see what was needed, and then go back home.
There are so many wonderful memories of them, thank you.
They were caring, loving people who instilled a Christian attitude in their family that will endure through generations.
Love ya,
Doug
I remember the "cementery" walks with grandmama too. I don't remember who we would stop and visit but do remember stopping not far from the cementery - always on our way home.
I don't think that they know what kind of legacy and example they set for us. That was just their life with no agenda. I miss them both.
Love you too Doug
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