I hope it doesn’t seem morbid to say what I’m about to say. Here goes…
I love Cemeteries. I really do. 
Of course, it helps that there are people buried here that I have known and loved. My grandma Elsie and grandpa Clyde…
my sweet mom and dad.
My sweet brother in law Mark–who wasn’t suppose to be here for a long, long time and just makes this mortality so much more real.
There are many more that I’ve only read stories about so that I feel like I know them and I’ve come to love them just the same. My great grandma Sophia and great grandpa Alfred her husband. My mom’s brother who died at birth and was never even named.
That’s the beauty of this funny little Memorial Day tradition that we have here. Now I know that this holiday is for honoring Veterans that have given their lives for our freedom. But my mom taught us to use this day to also remember any of our loved ones that are buried nearby. Over the years we would bring flowers to the cemetery for everyone we knew any stories about. But the best things were the stories that made them all come to life.
So, I hope it’s ok that we use this day the way we do.
It just feels right.
