memorial day at the cemetery

Each year my family visits the graves of my great, great-great, and great-great-great grandmothers (all mother/daughter) and their husbands, my great-grandfathers. We also visit my grandma’s brothers’ graves now. And then of course there is my daughter’s stone, the first one you see as you drive in (our plot is close to the road). It was pouring rain and very cold. My grandmother shuffled along with her canes and I tried to keep from freezing by walking around. Jo Jo slept through it.

New additions: a kitty from my cats, and an angel playing the violin

I was happy to see that the grave of “Angela Eirene” born in 1979 was all cleaned up, and had a pinwheel and little stones at the base that said “Love” “Mom, Dad”. All these years later, her parents were here to remember and love her at this spot. It made my heart hurt, and also made me feel much less alone.

Author: Mother of All Things

Mother by fostering, adoption, and marriage... wife to my best friend... Bay area critical care nurse... travel in my blood, reading in my bones, clean food on my mind!

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