Just lovely. When I read your posts I feel like we're sitting together and you are telling me a story. Especially these days, when I can't find a book I like or have time to read one when I find it, I look forward to your posts popping into my In-Box. Then I pause the world, read, and let my head supply the images your words convey.
What a beautiful, hilarious, inspiring memento mori. I probably won't be at your burial, but I can see the place clearly and hear the poem. Thank you for giving us a chance in advance!
I am struck with how the "displaced" status we exist in, a transitory state, becomes a placed status when a spot is chosen for our graves.
I have two potential spots, where we buried my dads ashes in Reinbeck, or the country cemetery near Jesup, which will be my mom's resting place. Divorce still splits us.
Mary, this is just beautiful! And it make me think of so many thing (most of which is, of course, how much I miss my own mother!). Those family plots (ours are in/near Jefferson), with those mysteries you describe, truly resonate.
And I love the nicknames small/rural Iowa people give each other over the years. My grandfather’s name was William, but they called him Bob. Unfortunately, we don’t know why. I’m glad you have the story of your family’s Bob.
That story of Ireland cracks me up! Makes me love the Irish even more.
Thanks so much, Wini! Glad you enjoyed this piece. You never know the mysteries of these pioneer cemeteries. The nicknames gave a real texture to these folks lives. And the humor kept them going. So nice to be a part of the IWC with you.
This has been on my to-do list. For a long time we thought nobody would care where or if we were buried. As it we get closer to that milestone, we've decided we need some permanent marker to say we lived here. We thrived here. Remember us.
I think most of us do live in a state of displacement, as you put it so well. The threads have not been spun that will knit us into the fabric where we once belonged.
Just lovely. When I read your posts I feel like we're sitting together and you are telling me a story. Especially these days, when I can't find a book I like or have time to read one when I find it, I look forward to your posts popping into my In-Box. Then I pause the world, read, and let my head supply the images your words convey.
Your message is so nice to hear, Dave. Thank you! Every writer should have a reader like you.
Beautiful! Your storytelling is a treasure. Thank you.
Thank you, Janet. Nice to hear.
What a beautiful, hilarious, inspiring memento mori. I probably won't be at your burial, but I can see the place clearly and hear the poem. Thank you for giving us a chance in advance!
I thought you would appreciate this one, especially the humor. Thanks, Elizabeth, for being such a faithful reader.
I am struck with how the "displaced" status we exist in, a transitory state, becomes a placed status when a spot is chosen for our graves.
I have two potential spots, where we buried my dads ashes in Reinbeck, or the country cemetery near Jesup, which will be my mom's resting place. Divorce still splits us.
Ah, you have options. Families get separated by emotional distances, too. It has a long-term resonance.
Mary, this is just beautiful! And it make me think of so many thing (most of which is, of course, how much I miss my own mother!). Those family plots (ours are in/near Jefferson), with those mysteries you describe, truly resonate.
And I love the nicknames small/rural Iowa people give each other over the years. My grandfather’s name was William, but they called him Bob. Unfortunately, we don’t know why. I’m glad you have the story of your family’s Bob.
That story of Ireland cracks me up! Makes me love the Irish even more.
Thanks for this. A great read this morning!
Thanks so much, Wini! Glad you enjoyed this piece. You never know the mysteries of these pioneer cemeteries. The nicknames gave a real texture to these folks lives. And the humor kept them going. So nice to be a part of the IWC with you.
Wonderful!
This is perfectly wonderful. Thank you!
There’s enough room...
What a lovely piece, Mary. Thank you.
Thanks for being such a faithful reader, Denise.
Oh Mary, beautiful!
Now I’m thinking of our family gravesites and my stone. A thoughtful read during a month of constant nostalgia for me. Thank you.
Thank you, Suzanne.
A classic to read again, and again, and again! 💗 And I do!
❤️ a thoughtful and loving story about something most of us try to avoid thinking about.
This has been on my to-do list. For a long time we thought nobody would care where or if we were buried. As it we get closer to that milestone, we've decided we need some permanent marker to say we lived here. We thrived here. Remember us.
I love this, Mary! Mesmerizing!
I think most of us do live in a state of displacement, as you put it so well. The threads have not been spun that will knit us into the fabric where we once belonged.