Reading headstones is not for everyone. Not as a leisure activity.
My wife will only visit graveyards, where she knows somebody residing there. Why visit others, strangers?
Old stones, old dates. Gone away all of them. Nice thoughts about those left behind. Small birds, figures, green plants. Evergreens. Ever Green.
What is forever, like gravestones perhaps?
Old names, two names, residing next to one another. For eternity.
Til death do us part. Til death reunites us again.
Together in graveyards consoling the living, left behind.
Flowers placed. Living things tended. Nicely kept. For the living, that’s all.
I don’t spend much time, reading gravestones.
I guess, it reminds me of my own mortality. It reminds me that someday, someone might place flowers, and evergreens by me.
I hope that they remember something about me. Something that brings a smile, or a tear.
Maybe they just happened on by. Children playing. Stones read.
Who was he? Why is he residing here, so far away from his home?
We don’t know him, move on, move on to the next.
Reading stones in graveyards, is not for everyone. If you don’t know them, that is…