Cemeteries, Sunshine and A Toy School Bus

For the past few years Memorial Day has meant a day of honoring my mother.  You see, she is "old school"  about it and likes to spend it in the cemetery (or cemeteries), honoring her loved ones.  She grew up going on family picnics on Memorial Day to the cemetery, and the whole family would place flowers at the graves of loved ones and spend the time cleaning off the headstones, pulling weeds, etc.  It was their way of showing respect and remembering loved ones.


Since my dad passed away 6 years ago, we have joined with her and my sister in making the 2 hour trek to a tiny cemetery in the hills above our little "home town", bringing flowers to my dad's grave and those of several other family members.  It's usually a cold, grey experience--it is Oregon after all.   We usually take a picnic and sometimes meet up with my brother & sister-in-law.  The kids are so sweet and take an exceptional interest in the experience.  As solemn a task as it can be, they have great attitudes.  The thing is, it is not exactly my husband's favorite thing to do.  He uses a rare day off of work to drive 4 hours round trip for a 20 minute  experience of placing flowers at the grave of someone who--quite frankly--couldn't care less about the flowers on his grave.  (I feel horrible saying this--please don't misunderstand.  We love my dad, but he is in heaven now and I don't think this is a huge deal for him.)  My husband doesn't complain, but I know what he's thinking.  He is very supportive of the ordeal because he cares about my mom too.  We do it not only to remember my dad, but to honor my mom. 


But this year we did something different.  We had the opportunity to go to the beach today.  But with how heavy our schedule has been, we didn't feel we could do the beach today, church tomorrow and the 5-6 hour cemetery trip on Monday.    A choice would have to be made and I automatically threw out the beach trip  because Monday seemed non-negotiable. 

But you know, it hit me.  Maybe this year, I could bless my husband.  Maybe it was time to celebrate life.  I emailed my sister and told her we'd love to do the beach if mom would go too, but that would mean we'd skip the cemetery this year.  Amazingly, my mom understood.  She agreed to come along to the beach, and so it was settled.

We played in the sand--in the sun.  It was gorgeously warm.  Our family got to be together in a joyous setting with laughter and play.  I would not trade this day for a thousand roses at my dad's grave.    The funny thing is, I found a little toy school bus at a gift shop and I purchased it for my two year old.  My dad was a school bus driver as a bi-vocational pastor.  He adored that job because of the kids.  He always had a million stories to tell about his experiences.  I think that he would have been pleased that this little grandson, whom he hasn't yet met, went to the beach today with grandma and came away with a toy school bus.  I think that this year, that bus is my bouquet for my dad; given instead to my son.  I'm certain my dad would approve.