The family reunion spot

Every year its a family reunion...but it's always a surprise to see who shows up. I'm talking about the cemetery tour of course. I'm a die-hard when it comes to cemetery visitin' & flowerin'. Well, maybe not a die-hard, but I can't remember a single Memorial day that I did not do it. And we now incorporate Mike's family too, so we add another day in the weekend. Fun family memories, the opportunity to share our heritage with our kids, and remembering those that came before. Good stuff.

I attribute my flower placin' passion to my ancestors...my parents of course, my grandparents and quite as well important my uncle Willard. Willard was my grandfather's brother. When I knew him he lived alone in a house next door to my grandparents. He had the most wonderful, enchanted play place under HUGE pine trees complete with stumps for walking on and playing anything your imagination could cook up. He had a tiny little kitchen that always held some sort of sweet and a beautiful piano in his parlor. He was the only one I knew that had a parlor. He loved to hear it played--loved to listen to hymns. But word to the wise, don't play Sweet Hour of Prayer at twice the speed just so you can show him how fast you can tickle the ivories. He was a simple man, a poet, a sailor, a lover of all things artistic. I'm sure there are many things I don't know about him, but I love what I do. One of those things, is he was the keeper of the cemetery. He carefully cleaned each headstone and arranged the flowers perfectly around with the help of my Grandmother and her incredible garden. He also made it known that you were not to step, climb or sit on those stones. That stance is debated in my family now and maybe I just have too much of the youngest child-want to please everyone syndrome, but I have it deeply ingrained in my soul and teach my kids the same because of Willard.

Ahh, but I digress.

The exciting thing about visiting the cemetery is that you know it will soon become a family reunion. Who will show up? Well that's anyone's guess, but you can bet on a few old and a few new--but all related faces.

So for this year's Guess who popped up at the cemetery list we have:

*Cousin Terry, who is related to the White's who are next to my family who are descendants of Robert & Annie one of the founding family's of Smithfield.

*Grace Afleck, okay she didn't pop up, she died in the 1800s but we found her grave. She was the second wife of John Thornley after his first wife Hellen died., the oldest member of our family buried here...born 1801. My sister-in-law happened upon a descendant of hers while on a business trip with my brother in Wine country California.

*Ray & Joy (You met them in a previous post)...well we do get to see them just about every year, but it is always fun to catch up.

*My uncle Virgil (My Mom's brother) and his daughter my cousin. This is about the only time we see Virgil anymore, as my Mom's older brother he knows a lot of the family history on that side of the family that we just don't know.

Part of the ritual is to repeat old stories and come learn new.

This year we learned all about my Grandpa Anderson. He was a member of the Utah National Guard and served in the First World War in the 145th Field Artillery Regiment Battalion A. He trained at Camp Kearney and served in France. I found this little tidbit on the Internet about it. (Paragraph 10). We also learned more about the orchard he owned on the land I now live and about his career as a shoe salesman. I never knew my grandfather, he died just a few months before I was born. I love hearing the stories.

So why is it so important to visit some green grass with rocks poking up? That's a good question. Couldn't we honor our departed relatives over a root beer and a barbecue? All in good time of course, I'm definitely not opposed to grilling up a hamburger. But there is something, real and almost tangible about hearing those stories in that hallowed place. About hearing about Robert and Annie, how in 1859 as they traveled to Smithfield they struggled because one of their oxen couldn't make it through the sandy soil and Robert had to hitch himself up...in the place they called Sand Ridge...the place they now call Roy. The thoughts of mothers & fathers and wives & husbands, sisters & brothers losing family members in 1919. The flu hit hard in our family. The memorial to Moselle 1902-1902. The heartache that must have been felt. Wondering how Grandpa felt when his cousin only 2 years younger than him died. Finding out that John outlived both of his wives...and they are both buried in the 'old' part of the cemetery. He must have lived by himself for many years. Wondering about one of the other founders of Smithfield. Seth and Sarah Langton. Noticing that there are never any flowers at their memorials. Wondering if their family has just moved away or if the family name simply died out. On Mike's side remembering how his several great grandpa John Walker survived Haun's Mill and his son William walked to Utah as part of the Mormon Battalion. Learning that your Mom's mom used to ride the Union Pacific to California to visit her fiance that was scheduled to ship out to France in the 'Great War', then marrying just days before he deployed. Yes, hearing the stories does the spirit good. We find out that we have incredible strength behind us that has weathered many a terrible storm. Somehow that makes it easier to forge ahead into the blustery unknown ahead.