A Walk in the Cemetery

Today we took Trek on a walk in the cemetery. THE cemetery. Cemeteries have a long-standing place close to our hearts; correction: they have a long-standing place in my husband's heart. He introduced the beauty of cemeteries to me on our first date and I immediately fell in love (with both him AND the cemetery).

When we first met, Casey lived on a street that was bordered on two sides by an old cemetery in South St. Louis. Prior to meeting Casey, I had always viewed cemeteries as creepy and morbid and had therefore stepped foot in them only when absolutely necessary (most of the time at funerals--no wonder my impression of them wasn't in a positive light). On our first date, after a drive, dinner, and a visit to a bookstore, he invited me to take a walk with him and his dog.

Walking through the cemetery with Casey taught me to have a different perspective. The cemetery became a place of thoughts, peaceful silence, and most intriguingly, stories. Lots of stories of lots of people. People who had lived and died, some for many years, some for very few. A young woman born on the exact date my husband was born, but whose life ended after only twenty-some years. A young man, a boy really, whose life was taken in war, less than twenty years after it began. A couple who had two children, both of whom died the same years as their respective births. Others who out-lived a century. Casey recently found a woman who lived to be one hundred and six, the oldest he has yet found.  Headstones  that have been worn away to illegibility. Headstones with pictures (I still find this disturbing). Headstones of simply a name and two dates. Graves marked with flowers, signs of grief and remembrance of those still living. A simple reminder that these silent stones hold stories, lives lived and loved.

Today as we walked through the cemetery, we crunched acorns under our feet and were thankful to do so with acorns not in our front yard (we have plenty, thanks). We looked at the giant trees of brilliant color under a sky of radiant blue. We reminisced about our story, of those first walks we took in the cemetery together.

 The first question Casey asked me in the cemetery was "What do you want?" (I think my answer was a house, but I was really thinking that I wanted HIM for the rest of my life---looks like I got both, lucky me).

Even now, when we pass a cemetery, I am filled with a sense of longing, of wonder, and of beauty. What a lovely place to spend time "until the morn of His return" as our cemetery (I secretly think of it as ours) entrance so aptly expresses.