We lost my cousin Jackie this week — on Valentine’s Day actually. We buried him today. He was buried at the same cemetery where his mother and both of his brothers are buried. Also our grandparents on my mother’s side are there and one of her brothers, along with other members of her side of the family. There are many different families buried in this cemetery, but I think of it as the “family” cemetery for my mom’s family. She wants to rest there when her time comes. (These are the shoes I had to change out of before the graveside service even started. Thankfully, I had my black house shoes with me!)
We spotted this tiny headstone today in the middle of the headstones of my momma’s family. I’d never seen it before. I don’t remember if momma had or not. Neither of us knew who is buried here. It is obviously a baby or very small child though. You could tell that just from the size of the grave. The only thing on the marker are the initials RC. I didn’t dig the grass up off of the bottom part of the stone, but now I wish I had. Maybe there is a date there. I don’t know, but I somehow doubt it. It looked complete. That’s the only way I can explain it.
By the time I got home, the sun was setting. It was a nice thing to see after a day of goodbyes and sadness. A reminder to live each day to the fullest. That our time here ends. Do something this weekend that you truly enjoy. I’m going to. Life is short. I’ve been a witness to this too often lately.