Another beautiful sunshiny day! I was just aching to get into the woods so after lunch we bundled up and drove out toward Lake Katherine, only to find the entrance road closed and heavy equipment blocking the way. There are other forests! But this time of year they're likely to be crawling with hunters, so not a good time to explore unfamiliar trails.
Bummer.
Reluctant to forego our time in the sun, we parked at the big cemetery on the edge of town and walked up and down its hilly paths. It's not quite a walk in the woods; for one thing, the there's more visible wildlife at Lake Katherine and the massive stones out there aren't inscribed with birth and death dates. But the sun was shining and the air was crisp and there's plenty to see at the cemetery, where walking around a corner can take you to a whole different era.
We saw old, illegible stones tilting in every direction and fresh news ones featuring realistic color portraits of the departed. We saw angels reclining on graves, carrying loved ones toward heaven, or standing triumphant over tombs--and I'm not sure what that one angel did to merit being placed behind bars. We saw flags and flowers and wreaths propped on graves plus all manner of holiday decoration, from snowmen to Santas to sparkly garland that shimmered in the breeze. One stone had a toy tractor trailer driving around the plinth. There must be a story there, but who will tell it?
In fact we felt surrounded by stories, some suggested by mottos on the stones and others by items left behind, but all the stories are incomplete and doomed to fade eventually. I'm sure someone knows why this grave features a bluebird house while that one wears a worn baseball cap, but who will remember those stories 20 years from now, or 50 or 100?
That's why I'm not waiting until I'm dead to tell my stories. If the things I've written can't stand as a monument to my life, a few words carved on a tombstone won't do any better. So welcome to my tombstone. Settle in for a long walk among the words.
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