The Week that Was

It was a beautiful Memorial Day for our Cemetery Tour last Monday. I had prepared decorations for my Grandmamas this year, lovely yellow rose bouquets with sturdy stands, but neglected the Grandpapas, kind of, because there are always flags everywhere. I stick with the original concept of “Decoration Day” to visit graves and celebrate our ancestors, and since the Veterans have dominated our idea of who is actually buried in these places, I especially wanted to commemorate the lives of all the Women who have come before me.

So we set out, stopping first at Lick Prairie Cemetery, where my 3x great-grandfather, Benjamin Franklin Mayne, is buried. B.F. was not a veteran and the lady who is buried with him is not my grandmother, but is his fourth wife (he outlived them all), but I was going to leave her a bouquet. The Mayne Family Plot, stretching a couple of rows along the front, also has most of B.F.’s sons and daughters, the oldest grave from around 1898. As I strolled along the immaculate graveyard, I remembered that B.F.’s third wife, Frances, the grandmother who actually raised his children after their mothers’ deaths, was buried up in the Old Lancaster Cemetery. With all due respect to Phoebe, Frances deserved my Grandmother Bouquet.

So Off we drove, about 3 miles down the road, to visit a grave I hadn’t seen in decades and offer up a token of my appreciation for being such a Strong Woman. Alas! The Old Lancaster Cemetery is 7/8 illegible stones. This is why I want my ashes spread; the Living just can’t keep up with the Dead.

Casey and I both have enjoyed restoring stones for our family in Ohio and down at the Marion Cemetery (which we visited next). The job at Lancaster is overwhelming, and we don’t even know where our people are actually buried. However, we will be giving it some thought. In the meantime, we said some prayers over all the pioneers buried there, then tooled on down to pay our respects to our other grands.

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The next day when we arrived for our appointment at the car dealership, I didn’t realize that it would be the last time that I drove Silvia, our 2010 Dodge Caravan. We have never traded in a vehicle before, always able to get a decent price by selling it ourselves, but this one needed brake work before I could pass it on in good conscience, so…

We bought this relic 145,000 miles ago, and her first trip was to NYC to get 5-year-old Emma for a month-long visit with us. I’d been driving a Mustang convertible and the growing number of grandchildren being born convinced me I needed more passenger room. So it was that she became the Camp Sonnystone Bus and our main travel vehicle. She served us well, though her long-distance travel days were sidelined by the travel trailer and Goldie. After we sold Goldie, we still took her on down to Disney and up to Chicago, but she was on her last legs, using oil and doing some wheezing. Still, I was sad to see her go.

My new car is an actual car and I’m still adjusting. Her name is Patsy and she is sleek, slim, and showing off a sunroof, leather seats, and all that computer hoop-la in cars these days. I haven’t driven it much, yet, but we’ll be taking her down to Disney in a couple of weeks and I’ll fill you in on the details.

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We finished up the garden, planting green beans and zinnias just two days ago. Rains have been intermittent and really perfect for spring watering.

This spell of relaxation, when my work is done and it’s now the work of the plants to grow and fruit, is one of my favorite times of the year. Sitting on the front-porch swing or being very quiet around the firepit, it’s a perfect time to reflect on the breathtaking beauty of nature and our place in it.

Hope you’re untroubled in your neck of the woods.

Peace