Homecoming

I don't know where you spent your Saturday, but some of mine was spent at the graveyard.

I knew I wasn't ready for it yet, because my back is out again, and every step I took let me know I was very much alive.

Tomorrow is homecoming where my mother's husband (yes, my daddy), her parents, her daddy's parents and her mother's parents are buried. Also various siblings, cousins and whatnot. Translated, I have a set of grandparents, great-grandparents and great-great grandparents buried there.

Mother purchased flowers for Daddy's grave, her parents' and grandparents' graves.

Here's the thing: my daddy is buried with all my mother's people. His folks are buried at another church in the county, where all his father's people are. His mother's people are buried at two different churches, all in this county.

Anyway, I asked why Daddy was buried there, and Mother said that's where he wanted to be.

I was looking at tombstones while we were waiting on Husband to come back from the "cage" where you throw all the old flowers. My great-grandmother has all her children, save one, buried there. She outlived all of them but two. There is a three year old, a sixteen year old, a twenty-seven year old, and my grandfather who was sixty-six when he died. She had another son, who is buried in Etowah, Tenn. He was sixty-two when he died. I know what killed all of them but one; the three year old. Mother can't remember and if I ever knew, well, I can't remember either.

Taking flowers to graves doesn't interest me much. But looking at old tombstones does. I've heard stories about these people all my life, and I guess this makes them more "real" to me.

All I know is I was glad to leave, glad it wasn't a hot or rainy day, and glad I could return to my bed, tiresome as it gets.

Hope your Saturday was filled with fun, too.