I can’t describe it, but I just NEED to visit my ancestral graves each year. Between weather and busy-ness, I never got out there to plant flowers this year. So last week I just up and left for Dunkirk. Some of the graves were bare with grass, and needed some brushing off dried lawn clippings at best, but I really just neede to do SOMETHING.I took some notes (and photos) so I can plan much better next year. During the trip I listened to an audiobook version of Proverbs, something I used to read out of a pocket Gideon Bible as a child when my parents tended to the Wysocki plot.
On the way there, I passed the ancestral home on Roberts Road and was pleased to actually find a group of people sitting in the backyard and driveway in lawn chairs. The plot where Aunt Belle’s house used to be is overgrown bushes and trees now, but not in a bad way, IMO. They glanced at me as I made a U-turn and slow-rolled past them, but just knowing it was being lived in with people being sociable meant a lot to me, perhaps vicariously since I had to fight the urge to pull in the driveway and have a conversation. I daydream sometimes of telling whoever lives there about my Father being born upstairs, and my Grandmother being born downstairs, or how the house itself was carried manually from across the street over a hundred years ago.
It also was one less thing on my to-do list. Twice in the last few weeks, I felt like I was losing it psycho-emotionally. Too many things I just couldn’t seem to take care ot. Even doing some of the remodelling of the bathroom felt like some Sword of Damacles. I cancelled some weekly plans for guests and that brought some breathing space, but I feel I really must be careful. Self-imposed publishing deadlines are another factor I should reconsider, but setting unrealistic goals that I nearly make anyway seems to work for me most times. Check back in a few months, LOL.