Today I went to two cemeteries in honor of memorial day. I usually go with my own family and meet more family there. Today, I was there alone. I'm ok with it.
Anyone that knows me knows I have a thing for family history. I love the names of ancestors I never knew. I love the stories I have heard about them.
One of the first years we lived in Utah, my sister Krista and I decideded we were going to sleuth out the grave sites of our people that were buried in Provo cemetary. I went to get her one Sunday afternoon and was teased by my dad. He thought we were up for a bigger task then we could handle. He told us- they aren't buried chronologically. Not to be dissuaded, Krista and I set out and found what we were looking for.
Two couples in my line are buried in that cemetery. Each of these couples had a child that married each other. Both couples, and their children were Mormon Pioneers. The Mills were origionally from Canada if I remember right.
The second stop was in Springville. It took me awhile to remember how to get to that cemetery, but I found my way. This is the closer-to-me group of people. I have uncles, veterans of the service, and aunts buried there, that I actually knew. My Grandma H is also buried there, but I never knew her. She was left a widow when my dad was only 8 years old. She raised a hard working, God fearing, country loving, faithful family. She is certainly dear to my heart for that and for many other things I've heard about her.
I am so touched seeing all the different families out honoring their loved ones. It's very sweet to see the care they give those little spots of earth dedicated to their loved ones.
I remember once before we lived in Utah, being here near Memorial Day. For some reason it was the first time I had really noticed all the flowers out and how beautiful the cemeteries looked.
Memorial Day is one of my favorite holidays.
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