Most people don't care for cemetaries a whole lot. Some even think they are creepy places, full of spirits, and other-worldly beings. I have never felt that way. To me, a cemetary is a place of peace, a place to contemplate everything, even life, ironically. Perhaps my attitude toward these resting places was formed during my childhood. My grandmother would often walk with me, her hand holding mine, to the cemetary to "fix" my grandfather's grave. She'd put fresh earth on it and plant a few flowers surrounding a red glass wind protector in which a fat, white candle sat. I would "help" getting myself all grubby in the process. All the while, my grandmother would tell me of the grandfather I never knew, shaping a man of humor and musical talent in my child's mind.
"Fixing the grave" was so much more than just beautifying a small plot of earth. It was a time of learning and understanding. It opened doors to a past that a child could not have imagined but would live in my memory for a lifetime.
Cemetaries are nostalgic places for me, filled with the love from those resting quietly underneath earthen blankets and with the love that is the root of the grief of those visiting and missing the ones no longer here.
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