All that is Beautiful

Folklore’s creatures of death (ghosts, goblins, witches, vampires, zombies, etc.) give cemeteries a bad name. The first time that James and I turned onto the street that we now live on, back when we were house hunting with a three-month-old Josie strapped into her car seat behind us, we were on our way to view the house that soon thereafter became our home and James told me that he could never live so close to a cemetery. To some extent I can understand why, knowing that some people associate them with a tragic death or personal loss. But to me, cemeteries encompass all that is beautiful in the world. They embody God’s most awesome creations- nature and humanity. They are peaceful, serene, wide open spaces with green grass, tall trees, and sweet smelling flowers. Generations of loved ones are there laid to rest, side-by-side forever. I have an awe-inspired reverence for these treasure troves and as I walk amongst the headstones I often shudder to think of the long forgotten histories which dwell there: mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters; countless stories of happiness, tears, joy, frustrations, triumphs, and trials. They are historical havens. Yes, cemeteries really are amazing places.

So when I combine this strange infatuation with my desire to get my kids outside for some direly needed playtime, I am often brought to the conclusion that we should take a walk through our nearby cemetery. Today it was sunny and 47 degrees outside, which made it a perfect day for such a cemetery stroll.

As we walked down the rustic path that weaves leisurely through the cemetery, the kids stopped to pick up stray sticks, twigs, leaves, pinecones, and rocks. Each one holds a world of wonder to a young, inquisitive mind. Josie declared that she was collecting these things to make a bird nest, which she did as soon as our little caravan came to a stop at the foot of the Saratoga Battle Monument.

Josie accumulating her "bird nest" supplies

I set out our picnic lunch as Jamie ran around the base of the monument searching for “bu” (bugs). Every time he saw one of the tiny black figures inching its way across the grey stones he would shout an exclamation of discovery. He pointed to it to make sure I’d seen it. Then he stomped on it with all his might and gave me a huge grin of self-satisfaction, his signature dimples deeper than ever. I got him to sit down and take a bite of his sandwich, but only for a minute. Then he caught a glimpse of another bug, tore a large piece off his PB&J, and ran over and fed the bug some sandwich.

Jamie found a bug!

Jamie squished a bug.

Josie and I held a long conversation, as we basked in the glow of the sun, about said bugs- where they live and what they eat. We concluded that bugs do not eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.



Big, beautiful smiles

 Eventually it was time to make our way back towards the house but we took our time and made plenty of stops for exploration and discovery. For now we talk about the plants and the animals but someday, when the kids are older, I can see myself starting discussions about all the history to be found here in the cemetery. As I watched Josie and Jamie zig-zag through the headstones this afternoon, I smiled. I love to see my children- who are my present and society’s future- in a setting so rich with the past.