Recently, my 92 year old grandfather and I visited local cemeteries where various of our family members are buried. Most fascinating to me was the tombstone of my grandfathers maternal grandparents (my great, great grandparents). While there, grandpa held down my paper and I rubbed a crayon over the very old tombstone which was no longer legible. On the side of the tombstone is the engraved name of their son Willie, my great great uncle, who died in 1898 at age 19 in the Spanish-American War (see above).
This outing was an adventure for me, but was also meaningful for my grandfather, who fears that, when he is gone, no one will care enough to visit or take care of these gravesites any longer. I feel it is important to have a connection with those who came before us, those who paved the way. My four year old daughter has expressed interest in accompanying me to the cemetary next time, and together we will help carry on grandpa's wishes, now and after he passes on. Perhaps, a picnic with the ancestors...how 'bout it, Willie?
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