Conversations When Driving To The Cemetery

Driving along a quiet road

I have driven many times before

I said, "I love time in the woods

even though we can complain

about being rerouted, the memories

that can come along with the ride

are unreal." He said, "I remember

as a child, peddling my bike

with a lifelong friend to escape

the huge moose we saw coming through

the swamp toward us. Then there were

the roads where we used to drive into

the ditches and out again, and when the

tires would lift off the ground."

~ (long pause)

"Funny how none of us died. No seatbelts

and crammed all together like sardines."

"Some of you have died now," I said.

"Yes, and I hear another one of the

old gang isn't doing too well," he said.

There are good, fun memories and

some not-so-positive memories

and sadness. Funny how many

memories like that we have as

we age. Memories in our 60s

and 70s.

~

When we got to Bena

he said, "How things change over time

Those were all dirt roads and now

they are all freshly tarred. The houses

aren't the same and the people aren't

either. Time changes everything."

~

Authors note: Then I read him a rhyme I was writing on our trip to plant Marigolds on the graves. This is something I wrote a few years ago and I found it in a notebook in a bookcase, along with the other notes.

Marigolds live well

loving the sun but they smell

Smelling enough to keep mosquitos away

Thankfully out of my way

One of my favorites today

Planting yearly in May

The freeze killed a bunch this year

I was close to tear

Marigolds are beautiful

and plentiful

My fears and tears

were unfounded most years.