One of my life’s unequaled joys is my five-year-old grandson, Jameson. He brings childhood wonder to everything we do (except, of course, when he is tired or hungry or just being contrary, which is hardly ever). And here is another joy: walking outside. Which is why I love summer, because I only like to walk when it is warm. And JOY upon JOY, my grandson likes to take walks with me! A summer walk with my boy. Life does not get better than that.
A few months ago, on one of our walks, we ventured upon a beautiful cemetery just a few blocks from our house. It is now one of our weekly rituals: walking to the cemetery. If you haven’t been to a cemetery lately, you ought to try it. Those dusty ancient stones are now surrounded by shiny granite ones – etched with pictures of classic cars, pheasants, and flowers. Jameson and I can walk around, look at the pictures, read the names, and know that this woman loved to knit and to go to the casino. I am not kidding; there is an etching of a slot machine on her stone.
Many years ago, my dad’s cousin, Bernice, mentioned putting flowers on graves on “Decoration Day”. I had to look that up – it turns out Memorial Day used to be called Decoration Day, indicating that we honored the fallen by decorating their graves. It officially became Memorial Day in 1967.
This year, for Decoration Day, I thought Jameson and I might decorate some graves at “our” cemetery. I found carnations for $1 each at the grocery store and bought 10. Of course, today of all days (Jameson is perfect, but not always), he said he didn’t want to go. So I said, “OK, I’ll do it myself.” Just like the “Little Red Hen” (you may have to look that children’s story up, if you don’t know it). Oh yes, soon, he was by my side, yammering on about cars and trees and preschool.
Before we left, my husband reminded me that we should put flowers on veterans’ graves, which was the right thing to do. But I decided to take a more “decoration” approach to it – decorating graves that had nothing. Jameson picked the graves without flowers, pulled out a carnation, and gently laid it in just the right spot.
Then we walked home, my grandson yakking the whole way.
It brought me JOY to decorate forgotten graves. To be outside in the sunshine. To be with my grandson. And to walk home.