At The Cemetery

Franco and I do a walk almost every evening after supper. Our habit is to walk west on our road up to the blacktop of the Pelkie Rd. On the corner of this intersection is the Elo Cemetery. The other night Franco and I were walking along side the cemetery when I noticed an older car driving along the blacktop. It slowed down, stopped, and backed up. The car then turned into the cemetery and the driver got out. She was a middle aged woman who was a bit overweight. I was far enough away from her that I couldn’t see her face. She walked up to a mound of dirt, stopped, and stood and stared for quite some time. I only watched at intervals out of the corner of my eye, because I sensed she didn’t want any company. After a few minutes she got back in her car and drove away.

The image of this unknown woman standing and staring at that mound of raw earth has stuck with me. Someone had obviously passed on, and she was working to come to grips with it. We are built to live life and revel in all its joys. The part of our being that deals with death seems to me to be empty, and in need of experience in order to deal with it. I felt for this woman but knew there was nothing I could do to help her. We all need to travel that road alone.

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