The Cemetery

I went to the cemetery today (Memorial Day). Only one other car was there. It was Janice Carmody. She was wandering around looking at the grave sites. I parked and wandered too. It was a little strange to be there in memory of Mom, partly because Mom isn't really there, and partly because she didn't like going to the cemetery anyway.
The reason I was really there and loved it so much is because it is so a part of my history and memories of Gramma Cora. She would take us there lots and especially on Memorial Day. We would take lilacs to the graves and then wander around reading the headstones and asking who they were and how they were related to us. She would tell us stories and it was really a family history lesson and a way for her to pass on to us her memories of family and this valley we call home. I have such wonderful fond memories of it all. It is really one of the most beautiful places to me. There were cows across the fence grazing and bawling at each other. It made me feel so at home, like I belonged there again. Janice and I talked for a little bit. I hadn't realized that Amelia Johns had died this year also. She had no children of her own. She had two niece that she had adopted as adults after there mother died. She gave all she had to them.
The wind was picking up and there were black clouds. I decided to leave, but so wanted to just stay and wander through our historical community. I had passed Charles Armstrong's grave. He was always our bus driver when I was in school. Then I started thinking about how Gramma didn't just tell us about our family but people all over the community. She knew them and they came alive to me through her telling.
We had gone to church yesterday at the Cardwell Community Church. Every time I go there I feel like I have gone home. People from my growing up years sit in many of the pews. Lots of Mom's friends. Some of my class mates and there kids. Some who went to school with my older siblings. It is like old home week and I love it. I am always amazed by there spiritual walk and how as a kid I never even new about it or assumed they had no relationship with the Lord. I would love to hear each of there stories of faith. What brought them to Christ and how they have grown.
I think being in the Cardwell community off and on is my healing process. Not only in grieving Mom, but the loss of our ranch house and my life there. A life where I was nurtured by so many. It is not that God hasn't continued to nurture me through other people, but going back to my roots, somehow is very different. It settles me and gives some kind of stability I can't explain in words.
I left the cemetery hungry for more, but they always say it is better to leave wanting more than to wish you could leave sooner. I can't wait for summer and a chance to go back. I am anxious for family reunion and HOME.