When I was a child, my family called Memorial Day, "Decoration Day", which was the original moniker of this day of remembrance. Many of them still do.
Growing up with a family which hailed from rural Kentucky, we would spend the entire day at the cemetery. My parents, aunts, uncles, cousins and various other friends, family, and neighbors would converge, after church, on the local cemetery.
There on a hillside, nestled in a copse of elm and sycamore trees, lay our forefathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Dates ranging from the mid-eighteen hundreds to the current year. Those who had fallen in battle, and those who had merely fallen.
We would diligently, child and adults alike, clear the graves of any weeds, mow the grass with push mowers, and lovingly place flowers on the graves of our respective family members. Tears would flow unchecked, remembering the lost loved ones. Family stories would unfold, tales of heroism, bravery, and loss.
Don't begin to think this was a somber occasion. There was laughter too. Stories of silly antics by one departed relative or another would be told, for the umpteeth time, usually by an uncle who had a hidden flask of moonshine in his back pocket, and many of those good ole boys had big back pockets, if memory serves.
And then we would eat.
Picnic lunches were packed in ice before church, to be brought out by the women folk to be devoured by all. Fried chicken, potato salad, fried frog legs, ham, cole slaw, cakes, pies, and fresh lemonade and iced tea by the gallon would be laid out on handmade quilts in the grass.
Finally, as the day waned into evening, a cousin, uncle or someone would play "Taps" on a bugle, and everyone would head for home, usually exhausted, and melancholy.
Does anyone go to the cemetery anymore?
My family still does, although not to the extent of my childhood memories. They place flowers on the graves of lost loved ones, get in the car and go home to cookouts. I haven't participated in the cemetary ritual since my Mother died, in 1979. I send money for flowers to my sister in KY., who places them for me. I just couldn't bear to see the stone with my dear Mommy's name on it. It may seem disrespectful to some, but it was my cross to bear. Daddy passed away this past December,and his burial was the first time I had seen that headstone in 29 years. It broke my heart, as I am sure it will again, now that both names are engraved in the stone. I have made a promise that I will go, but not this year, I have to work. Isn't that convenient?
** This piece is a re-edited post of an article I wrote last year.
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Comments: 28
Thanks for sharing your familes traditions.
lol
I love you momma!
And Featured in Wednesday Writing Essentials.
This is most excellent, Donna.
Thanks for sharing it with all of us.
Jamie,
I didn't mean to make you cry, sweetie. I love ya baby girl!!!!
KEO,
Thank you, I am honored
Janet,
You know exactly of what I am writing about. I have to say though, we never planted flowers, we place live arrangements, or other momentos. I would check with the cemetery caretakers to see if it is permissible to actually plant on the graves.
Bill,
You're welcome, babe.
on the chest of drawers right next to me where I am typing. Maybe this sounds wierd, but I hate the thought of the cold ground, and he wanted to come home, and I brought him with me, even moved him with me. When I pass away, I want my son to spread my ashes and his together in the ocean, we both loved going there for vacations, Back to where we came from.
I kept my late husband's ashes in the basement, behind the bar, where he liked to be. When Bill and I got our own place, he went to my daughter, who keeps him in a place of honor.
Danielle,
I did that with my kids too...Within walking distance of the apt. we had when they were little, was the cemetery where James Thurber, G.W.'s Great-Grandpa, and Eddie Rickenbacker. They loved learning about the various histories and looking at some of the statues, memorials and shrines.
Vanceburg and South Shore
Ron,
I started a new job a few months ago, and as low gal on the totem pole, I have to work.
I can't bear it.
My family is all spread out and most are in Spain, Switzerland and most in California with the exception of a few here in Texas. None are in the immediate area so we don't go visit the cemetary. We much prefer to think of our family that has passed as they once were as opposed to going to see a stone in the ground.
It is very difficult for most of us to do what your family does although I do think that yours has so much more feeling than our way of dealing with death is.
Thank you so much for sharing this special memory with us.
Your story was achingly poignant and sweet. Thank you, Donna.
Tastes like chicken....really...itty bitty chickens, but chicken.
Sharon,
The cemetery where my folks rest has perpetual care, but the one on the hillside where most of my Dad's family lay has to be cared for by families....its very old and literally sits on a hillside...I'm sure its a bear to mow.
Ina,
Thanks, hon!
Sandy,
I can relate...I refused to view my Mother in her casket, I just couldn't bear to carry that memory.