As a kid, I always loved Memorial Day. I'd wake up early to make flower arrangements with my grandma from the flowers growing in her yard. Then we'd head out to the graves of family members I'd never met, listening to stories of their life. It was a magical holiday for me, thinking about my family who had gone before me and wondering how it would be to meet them.
I still head out on those early morning trips to the cemetery with my grandma. But now I place flowers on graves of people I have known and love, people who I want to always remember, honor, and pass along some of the precious memories and lessons they have given to me.
Our boys are still very young, but last year we decided we would go to our grandparents graves. We picked flowers from our garden, and made them each a bouquet. Last year our boys ran around the cemetery grabbing everyone's pinwheels. To combat this problem, we brought pinwheels for them to put on the graves.
Our stories are pretty simple right now. "Great-grandpa Brown flew an airplane!" "Great-grandma Illum loved making cookies and singing." "Great-grandpa Hyer was a farmer and drove tractors" "great-grandma Shreeve loved to dance" etc. But, I'm excited that I'll be able to share these stories with them, just as stories were shared with me as a girl.
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