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Haunted
On Memorial Day I am haunted and flooded with so much grief. My Mother lies next to my Grandmother and they next to my Great Aunt. My Fathers name is there, too, but blessedly he’s not there yet. Such great memories are restored as I look at each stone. Once again I’m a rambling child with no kids of my own. I remember the safety they afforded me, and all the treats and their love. All their little sacrifices they gave, when I was still too young to know. Why did I chase after a kitten when Grandma was so close by my side? A simple tug on her skirt and she would of hugged me and smiled with pride. Why was I discovering butterflies, when my Great Aunt was close there too? She made the best pies EVER from scratch while I played in another room. Why did I take Mom for granted… when as a child she gave me so much? What I wouldn’t give for her gentle touch… and another soothing hug… And Grandpa lies by Grandma… he was always repairing something or by her side. And now there are all my aunts, uncles, and cousins that are all scattered around. They made Christmas my favorite time as their talk and laughter rang out. They’d laugh, talk, and enjoy each other’s company, as I’m sure now they do. I can’t imagine them in any other way, than at my Grandma’s on those wonderful days. We’d sit down to a holiday feast with everyone all around and it all seemed like play. Were they then thinking of others that they knew from long ago? As I walk around the graveyard picking out old friends, I remember their wistful looks… They did the same each year, as they talked about the past even back then. Perhaps its time my stone goes there, though I’ve a few more years to go. That will help my children when it’s also my time to go… And surprisingly it makes me feel I’m not leaving the older family alone. It’s like a kiss, and a tug on a skirt to leave that something behind. It’s a promise… they’ll be remembered until it too, is my time… Until then I’ll bring my children and tell stories from long ago… One day a year can’t be too much since it’s memories that I bestow. And they all simply add up to the life that I have known.
Copyright © 2024 Carol Eastman. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things