Graves are important to us hill-folk. Tending to those who have gone on before reinforces our connection to the past. I remember being little and my mamaw taking me to the cemetery to "work the graves" of her parents, grandparents, and siblings. We also usually made it over to see to her father-in-law's grave as well. All had to look good for "Decoration Day" when people might be coming to visit the cemeteries.
This week, my high-school friend Amy went to check on her mother-in-law's grave. (Her mother-in-law is Arvilla, whom I've written about before.) Anyway, Amy and Sonya (Arvilla's daughter) had put a ceramic angel on the grave, and someone threw it out. I am sure that it was some teenage boy or other that they paid minimum wage to clean up the cemetery.
Because a lot of us don't do it any more. I never go up and tend to the graves. My mom and my aunt do, I guess. Although I'll ask about it, I won't go check and make sure they did.
When they are gone, though, I guess I'll have to. I can't imagine anyone else would.
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