I stood on the grave of two great grandmothers. It was as
though I had found long lost family, which I had. Katherine (Katie) Whalen, my
grandmother’s mother on my father's side, died too young in
1908. Katie is kneeling on the far right of the above photo. There isn’t a
record of death and there aren’t any family stories. My grandmother Charlotte
(Chotsie) made a pilgrimage around 1968 to Ireland where Katie’s parents were
born, maybe to discover some stories. She traveled alone and I always
thought this was incredibly daring, but I wasn’t surprised. Chotsie was a
dynamic woman and the story is that she was the first female to wear pants in
the little town of Greencastle Indiana.
It took
time to find the gravesite of Lucy Webb Hoover, my 3rd great
grandmother on my mother’s side. I had to put coordinates into my GPS to find the
little pioneer graveyard in rural Indiana. And then I stood on her grave and
said “Hello Lucy”. The name is a beloved one in our family and now I know it’s
been passed down, skipping generations, to become my niece’s. My great
grandmother was a pioneer, having moved from then developed Philadelphia to the
territory of Indiana before it was a state. I sat on her grave, gently making a
rubbing of the stone that will soon be unreadable.
I’ve
always loved cemeteries – they are peaceful parks filled with stories – though
I’ve never liked the idea of graveyards, to use the land in such a way. I want
to be placed in a remote area where I can easily be turned back into the earth.
No embalming. No grave stone. But now I wonder, who would tell my story if I’m
not marked in some way? Who would find me hundreds of years later and stand on
my grave saying, “I am here. I am you and you are me. Hello Cathy.”
Cathy... This is nicely done. You provide a good description of the various emotions involved in your quest.
ReplyDeleteCan you give the years of birth and death on Lucy's headstone? The photo doesn't bring them out clearly.
Chris Smallwood
I love cemeteries also and I would rather be cremated than buried. But I struggle with the same question, if there is no "grave" who will wander by and wonder about me?
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