The above words describe most cemeteries in Iowa and around the country, or at least what we can see from above the ground. I frequented cemeteries as a child. I still do, but for different reasons.
My grandmother and grandfather on my father’s side died before I was born. My grandmother and grandfather on my mother’s side died when I was 5 years old. As such, I have limited memories of them, mostly from photographs and tombstones. The latter may sound morbid, but it was my connection with my grandparents. I would ride my bicycle to the cemetery and talk with them, or, more correctly, I would talk to their tombstones. It provided me with a sense of solace that I needed. It still does.
Today, I make a habit of visiting cemeteries in the towns I frequent. I enjoy reading the family names and the inscriptions, and I often recognize many of them. I am fascinated by the groupings and scatterings of family member graves, wondering why they were sorted as such. More than likely, those were simply the plots that were for sale at the time. But, in some cases, a few family arguments about burial locations surely came about.
When living in Nebraska City, Nebraska, I would often visit Wyuka Cemetery where J. Sterling Morton, the founder of Arbor Day, was buried. I was the publisher of a newspaper he was the editor of more than 125 years prior. His tombstone is in the shape of a massive tree trunk, and his grave site is lined with stones carved in the shape of tree logs. I would spend time there “talking” to him and asking if he approved of the job I was doing with his newspaper.
As my years continue to tally, I have been thinking more about where I want to be buried. Jolene and I have discussed this often, but we have not come to a decision, and that’s not fair to our children who will then someday be forced to make the decision for us. If I died tomorrow, I would hope that Jolene would meet someone new to spend the rest of her life with. As such, she would likely want to be buried next to that person. In that scenario, I would prefer to be buried back in my hometown in the same cemetery as my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. But if Jolene and I were fortunate enough to grow old together, I would want us to be buried next to each other. But where? We have moved frequently and have not planted roots enough in one community to make it our forever home.
So, we are continuing the discussion, exploring our options, driving the narrow paths lined with evergreen trees, walking in the manicured grass and reading the etched stones.
Have a great week, and thanks for reading.
Shane Goodman
President and Publisher
Big Green Umbrella Media
shane@dmcityview.com
515-953-4822, ext. 305 |
