The Graveside Visit

The Graveside Visit        

One of the best visits I had at Christmas was at the grave site of little Katelyn.  I think of Katelyn all year.  I think of her especially on her birthday, November 20 (1991) and on the day she died, Christmas Day (1991).  I try to visit her grave on Christmas Eve.  It is a time to slow down and stop and remember and reflect.  It’s a time to tell her I know she is not there.  It’s a time to cry and remember what is important while we are here on this earth.  My nephew had made his sister a wreath shaped like a cross.  I have seen square wreaths and letter wreaths but not a cross.  I could see where some other special people had remembered Katelyn too and left things there for her.  I had just brought myself, and Pete.

Part of that reminder is that the important things are not hustle and bustle, even though some of us try to do that to have a meaningful Christmas and not just for the craziness of it all.  It reminds me that things are not important.  The visit reminds me that it’s okay if I did not do everything I set out to do.  I have all year to be thoughtful and kind.  I don’t have to rush around and make myself and others miserable.

Visiting Katelyn’s grave reminds me that my family is so very important.  My friends.  All of them.  We just never know when we will not have more time with them here. 

I still did not get to see everyone I wished I could see on Christmas Eve.  I did not get to go to all of the homes and visit all of the loved ones I wished I could.  Sometimes my dad and I would visit eight to ten homes in one swoop.  Other Christmas Eves we stopped after a few because of something that happened.  Once I got to spend several hours alone with someone when the family had a medical emergency during our visit.  It was a sweet sweet time, though unexpected.  And when my sister joined us later, she was able to share it too. 

Above Katelyn’s grave is the one of my great grandfather.  He was my grandfather’s stepfather.  My grandfather’s father was killed in the coal mines when my grandfather was a little boy, the oldest of three.  During the Great Depression, my grandfather helped support his family that included his stepfather and new little brother.  My great grandfather loved my sister.  He loved me too, but she was very special to him.  So it is very fitting that her first little baby is buried right near him.  

Next to him is my great grandmother.  She always made sure I got in the front of the line when tons of family lined up in her small kitchen to make sure I got mashed potatoes.  She made the best, and she knew that was probably all I would eat!   It’s so unreal to see on her stone that she was born in 1899!

Next to my great grandparents are my paternal grandparents.  My grandmother died soon after my great grandmother did in 1996.  Peter was just a baby.  She had battled cancer a few times, and the last time she was home for about a year before she died.  We spent time together in a blizzard after my great grandmother’s funeral.  My grandmother said she wished she could join her in Heaven soon, and she did – at Easter time.  We talked that day, and I read the Bible to her.  It was a special time. 

My grandfather lived several years longer.  He was the most generous man.  He worked hard all of his life.  And he would do anything for us.  I remember him telling me through tears that he prayed for Andrew every night, after Andrew started getting illnesses.  He also liked to always try to slip me a $100 bill.   My mom told me to take it sometimes – it was his way of helping.  He died after suffering two aneurysms.  I stayed with him a lot in the hospital during what was supposed to be a girls’ weekend.  I remember getting to the hospital and seeing him after my brother called.  My brother-in-law took me to eat and filled me in.  When the family went to church Sunday, I spent that time alone with him.  We had gone through photo albums, and I told him stories of all of the great grandchildren.  Some of his dear friends, one a Virginia delegate, came to visit him on their way to church.  He was a much loved man who did more than we will ever know.  I still picked up the phone to call him at special times even years after he was gone. 

Even though it is sad when I miss them, I also realize how very blessed I have been in my life.  I still am very blessed with the family and friends God has given to me.  He has put so many wonderful people in my life.  To me, it’s amazing just how many there are.

The best part about the visit is knowing I will see them again.  And when I lose someone else, I know I will see them again if they go to Heaven.  There is an urgency to tell people and point them in that direction.  I feel it more and more as I get older.  I hope this year to be a better step for people to send them in the right direction so they can know the saving grace of my Savior.