Musings

We live just down the street from an old cemetery. Often the boys and I ramble around in the afternoon. I just love an old cemetery. I think this in genetic- my grandmother loved an old cemetery. She used to go "meandering" with all of us kids piled into her giant Pontiac. She would just drive, down any dirt road, take any turn that struck her fancy, just spend the afternoon getting lost. She always stopped at an old cemetery. She would also take us to see our relatives- definitely on Memorial Day and Veterans Day as well. So I am inclined to spend time wandering around a cemetery and I just love that there is one just across the street. My favorite of all cemeteries is the little country cemetery in Tipton, in the middle of farm fields and a little bench sits next to a row of junipers pointed in the sky. I can't go home with out a little stop in this sacred spot to sit and talk with Micheal and now Grandma as well.

The cemetery across the street is a wonderful one. Crumbling around the edges, the woods slowly creeping in along the borders, weather worn tombstones, creeping vines, and old iron work. Anyways, a couple of the tombstones stood out to me. One was made of granite and shaped like a tree trunk of a pine tree, about 3 feet tall. On the top it said "Here lies a woodsman of the world" on the trunk a dove with an olive branch and resting against the trunk an ax and a mallet. Interesting. Any thoughts on the meaning? Also two sweet ones- this one for a toddler "Our son, our only son is gone, his sweet voice is stilled, a place is left in our hearts, that never can be filled." and in a family plot one that only said "Blessed Mother".