Thoughts on Death . . .

Here, I walk among the stones commemorating those who have gone before. I see their names and dates carved carefully by those who loved them, and those they loved. Their deeds are forgotten for the most part, except what has been passed down. We are here because of those that these stones represent. Flesh and blood, a beating heart, reduced to clay, and a stone with a name and a date. What about their tragedies? What about their triumphs? What about their accomplishments and their loves? Great lives are reduced to a few lines on a stone. Will we never know the situations and challenges that they overcame? We are here because Sam loved Elsie, Obidia loved Flossie, and Norman loved Alma.

Here, I walk among the stones of those who have loved before. The heritage they passed down to us, with a myriad of mysteries is here, within us. It’s all laid out and ready for us to read and explore. We are the accumulated history of these stones. We are what they lived for, we are what they loved for, we are what they fought and died for, and we will be their best works until we pass the prize to those that follow and we join the stones.