Whew!
Good thing all I was doing was supervising.
The interesting thing is the really old ones don't look all that heavy.
Maybe three feet high and maybe two inches thick. It looks like you could pick it up, tuck it under your arm and walk away.
Nope. Nah. No way.
Husband, who I have seen pick up a 110 pound Daughter who was about to faint, could barely lift this. I suggested he roll it, head over foot down the cemetery hill and then maybe pull it into the car.
This took several minutes, as we were parked at the foot of the hill,
and the tombstone was leaned up against an oak tree at the top of the hill.
Now, it may have occurred to you to wonder what the heck we are doing
I mean, it's not an everyday occurrence, and it ain't anywhere near Halloween.
It just so happens the tombstone belonged to Lizzie McGuire. No, no, not that Lizzie McGuire - the one that Daughter used to watch every afternoon after school- but my Lizzie McGuire.
No, this Lizzie McGuire, (given name Elizabeth Hulsey), was my great-great-grandmother. I didn't know she was buried in this cemetery until a few months ago. Her daughter is the only great-grandparent I knew little about, because, unlike all my other greats, she was born in Dawson County. Through a lot of weird stuff, one of my very distant relatives contacted me. She told me that Lizzie was buried there, and that a newer tombstone had replaced an old one.
Well, we couldn't find the newer one where her grave is, though it did give me the opportunity to visit my great-great and my great-great-great grandparents graves, who are also buried there. (Yes, we left their tombstones.)
We began to imagine what Lizzie would think for all our effort. She may have laughed or she may have shed a tender tear.
But for me - somehow I couldn't just let that old tombstone finish out in the weather. It's in bad enough shape as it is.
Rest in Peace, Lizzie. I'll take care of the tombstone.
Would it be that could be said of us all.
No comments :
Post a Comment