Cemetery Tales - Hints and Helps

I know there are so many people just dying to hear my hints and helps pertaining to cemeteries. (Sorry about the pun, NOT!)

Here they are in no particular order:

• When you are blue, buy Grey!

When you find yourself in the market for a headstone go for gray.

(Notice that I spelled grey two different ways. It's because I think gray is right, but grey FEELS right.)

Back to headstone selection.....although burnished brown, rosy rose and slick black look awesome brand new, it doesn't take very long before hard water deposits build up a yucky scum. Unless you want to go out weekly and remove the buildup, or hire someone to do the job after you are laying under it, it's going to look bad. Think shower doors scum.

I've seen headstones that are 50-75 years old that look relatively new because you can't really see all the hard water deposits that have built up, whereas I've also seen black or any other color look pretty beat up after only a year or two.

• If you live in a zone where your water is not so hard that you chip teeth taking a drink of it, then disregard the first help and hint.

Yes, aren't you lucky. Don't rub it in. If you DO want to rub it in you'll find me outside scrubbing the hard water deposits off my brown brick on the front of my house. (Why didn't I get grey?)

• Don't plant a tree next to your beloved's headstone.

Although you may think it the ultimate homage to pay to your dearly departed, what you are actually doing is creating the perfect environment for little birdies to besmirch the headstone for decades to come. Birds are not discriminating poopers. They don't really care where it lands. If they are sitting in a tree that some kind soul planted, and they feel the slightest urge to "let it all go", they are not going to scooch over on their branch even a little to avoid hitting that rectangular stone directly beneath them.

.... and related to this help and hint,

• If you stand under a tree looking at a headstone, don't look up.

You don't want to get it in the face if there happens to be a little birdie there who feels the slightest urge to "let it all go".

No, this has not happened to me, but it's only a matter of time.

• Pay for granite.

I know, it's expensive. It's also hard and won't deteriorate. I've seen some lovely homemade headstones. The work gone into these labours (labors?)of love is tender. It makes me sad when I see one of these do-it-yourself jobs and can barely read the name or the date, even though it's less than 10 years old. Even the small metal plates that the funeral home puts on lasts longer than most of the wood or cement markers I've seen, and those lose letters quickly. Hold a bake or garage sale and get something that will last.

• No Falsifying

I know you really wanted to have dad included in your family photo, but he died before the new baby was born. Whatever you do DON'T photoshop dad into the picture and put said picture on the headstone. Geneologist for ages to come will scratch their heads and doubt the dates of the new baby's birth. (yes, I've seen this)

• Break Out the Big Boots

If you haunt cemeteries like I do (sorry for the pun, a little) and have wrecked the ligaments in your feet because of all that hiking over uneven ground, put on your combat boots before you do one more headstone. So what if you look like a zombie because of the way the boots make you have a lurching gait. Wait.......... um, well.... what better place for you to look like a zombie than in a cemetery! :) I promise that your feet will thank you later.

Preparation

I had to sit in for one of the teachers all week and listen to and grade student presentations. The class was Natural Disasters, 3 sections worth. The students projects were on some of the natural disasters that we've had in the U.S. in the last 100 years or so, like Galvaston Hurricane, Peshtigo Fires, Tri-State Tornados, and Hurricane Katrina.

I listened to stats of death, destruction and mayhem. I saw video clips and heard human interest stories. It was quite sobering.

Today we talked in class about what is the very most important kind of preparation that anyone can do to prepare for these kinds of events. Some students suggested education, and although this is very important we decided that it really wasn't number 1.

You can be as educated as is humanly possible about how to protect yourself against disaster. You can have supplies stored up, know the safest places to go, and how to best protect yourself.

But that is no guarantee that you won't die if a flood, volcano, hurricane or tornado hits. The best kind of protection ultimately is spiritual protection. If the worst happens and you don't make it through the disaster, if you are spiritually prepared to meet God, then everything will be okay.

"If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear." D&C 38:30

Epitaphs

Other families probably don't do this, but the topic of conversation at our house is occasionally about cemeteries. This could be due to the fact that I spend a lot of time in them doing my hobby.

One particular conversation was about epitaphs. These are the little snippets that are insights into the life of the one interred. Little glimpses into what was important to them, what they were like, or what they were remembered for.

These can be humorous, like the one I read at the Rose Hill Cemetery that said,
"See, I Told You I Was Sick!",
or
"I'd Rather Be Fishing",

to solemn
"Here Lies A Good Man"

They are glimpses into what the deceased did for a living,
"A Woodman of the World"
"Teacher of All"

and to what kind of a person they were in life,
"Loved By All"
"Loving Mother, Wife, Grandmother"

Sometimes they are messages from the family to the departed,
"You Will Be Missed"
"I Love You More, ha ha, I Said It Last!"

One day I was talking with some of my kids about what I might want on my headstone after I pass. I considered something like, "I'd Rather Be Painting" or maybe, "At last I have time to Paint". We were being silly, and having a good time.

About this time Mike called me on the phone. I told him what we were doing and asked him what he wanted to have on his headstone.

Mike's big belief in life is to render service as much as is humanly possible. He is always looking for ways to help people out. When people thank him for the help he usually says,
"If I can't help you out during the week, then what's the use of going to church on Sunday?"

And so that's what he said he wants to have on his headstone.

We hung up the phone and I told the kids what dad said. We agreed that was way too long and were trying to figure out a way to shorten it. We came up with this,
"What's the Use Of Going to Church?"

Mike was not amused.

Ouch----Foot and Car

I took a little trip down to my podiatrist this morning.
The good news is my tendonitis is slowly starting to heal.
The bad news is that I have to wear the boot another 3 weeks and then go back down to be evaluated.

Then he gave me some MORE good news and bad news.
The good news was that he was going to do something to help it heal even faster.
The bad news was that it involved 2 painful shots.

The first shot was into the heel of my right foot. Let me just say..........
IT HURT!!!!!!
As he's pushing in the potent cortisone through the needle it felt kind of like someone was holding a hot curling iron to my bare flesh and then every second or two, while leaving the curling iron in place, stabbing that same spot with an exacto knife.
Then he said, "on the count of five it will all be over".
I thought, "FIVE!!!!!" I don't know if I can take it to the count of ONE.
I did jerk pretty good a couple of times.

When he finished he told me that was the worst one and then gave me a shot in the tendon on the side of my foot. Honestly, I didn't hardly even feel that one.

When I finished with the appointment I clomped out to the car and drove to work. It was just starting to snow. After yesterday's spring weather it was kind of depressing. It snowed all day. Hopefully tomorrow we'll be back to spring.

After work and class I went out to my car to go home. I wasn't feeling the best, my thumbs hurt a lot (arthritis) and my foot hurt (curling irons and exacto knives) and my hair was hanging in my face (wet snow), and I just wanted to do something to lift my spirits up. I'd been contemplating taking a bee-keeping class, (part of my being self-sufficient kick), and knew there was a class next Monday. So before I started my car to go home I pulled out the flyer and called the number to sign up for the class. This took about 10 minutes. After hanging up the phone I started my car and then looked behind me to back up. A car was sitting there looking like he was waiting for my parking spot. Parking on campus is notoriously bad and it's not uncommon for this to happen. I had no idea how long he'd been waiting there, and hurried a little more than I should have in backing out. Well, unbeknownst to me he was actually waiting for the car to back out that was directly behind me. We both backed out at the same time and, well, backed into each other! I pulled forward and got out to check out the damage, stepping my battered and booted foot right into a big puddle of water, soaking it thoroughly. The other driver also got out and we determined that no damage had been done to either car. Hallelujah!!!
Now I'm home and not real anxious to go out again.
But we'll see....... the Republican caucus is tonight.

Evening Song

Late at night,
when the house is quiet, and I'm just about to log off the computer and go to bed
I hear the strangest sound.

My refrigerator.

It sings to me.

Well, singing isn't the exact word....

it

plays music for me.

I know what you're all thinking.

You are thinking I can't control my hungers.

I know you.

But that's not the case.

My fridge plays a few musical notes.

like plucking harp strings.

I swear it's true.

Cemetery Tales - Celebrating a Life

I drove into the Teton Cemetery after work one evening last fall. It was about 5:00. At that time of day I was used to seeing an occasional car and maybe the sexton. I was surprised when I saw a large number of cars lining the narrow road on the far side. A large group of people were circled around typical of a graveside service. I eased my car to a stop to wait. I did not want to be a distraction for the service.

It was a warm evening, so I rolled down my window to get some air. I leaned back in my seat and just relaxed, watching the group from afar. Gradually I started noticing some oddities about this gathering. Snippets of laughter came, not once, but over and over. A lot of children were in the group and they were all holding brightly colored balloons. And then the singing started. They sang a few unfamiliar songs and then ended with "Happy Birthday to You". As one, they all let go and 50 bright balloons floated upward and away. It was beautiful.

Immediately afterward the group began to disburse. I heard one small child ask excitedly, "are we going to go watch the movie, now?" The cars all loaded and drove away as one.

I was extremely curious. After the last car had pulled out I went to the spot where the celebration had taken place. Small trinkets and tokens had been left on the headstone, and the date revealed that yes, today was this lady's 56th birthday.

Cemetery Tales: A Love Story

I had just about finished photographing the entire cemetery. It was one of the larger ones I'd done and had taken me almost 2 weeks. I was on my last section.

An older gentleman was mowing the lawns and keeping his eye on me. I'd seen him on and off for a few days. Finally he came over to me and asked me what I was doing. I told him about billiongraves and he was quite interested. He got out his cell phone and I helped him find the app. Then he told me a story.

"See that grave right there? I need to tell you 'bout that one. Many years ago there was this feller who just loved his wife so much. He was, what you might call, obsessed with her. Well, that there lady done take sick, and well.... she ended up dyin'.

"That feller was so heartsick. He just couldn't stand the thought of never seeing his sweetie again, so he buried her right there, and left off the lid of the coffin. Then he went and got a big piece of glass and put it over the top. That poor feller was here every minute he could be so he could gaze down at his beloved.

"Well, time started passin' and that poor lady started goin' bad. The cemetery board had a little meetin' about it and had to tell that poor feller that he was goin' to have to cover her up.

"With a heavy heart he consented and put on the lid. I don't think the board trusted him none, though, cause look what they did."

And with that I looked and saw a weathered cement slab covering.