Cemeteries & Bunny Rabbits

Another weekend is upon us......it's a little scary how often they seem to come around these days! It's going to be a little cool here for graduation. Hopefully it will stay dry.

Our usual Friday cleaning was done today, as well as running to the grocery store. We found a great treat for hubby – no sugar added ice cream bars in vanilla bean and salted caramel flavors. Food choices for diabetics are so much better than they used to be. We did a “quality control” check on the way home.......they passed with flying colors.

Next weekend will be our annual trip to the family cemeteries – Mom changes flowers for the seasons at the cemetery where my Dad and grandparents are buried. But for Memorial Day we visit two cemeteries and leave more flowers. I need to get my flowers down and take inventory so I have time to pick up what I need at the store.

Over my childhood years we visited the cemeteries with regularity. In fact, when I was really small individual families were responsible for mowing their family plots. I remember going frequently with Mom and Dad and playing – carefully – around the cemetery while they mowed. There were always cautions of rattlesnakes to keep me from getting away from the mowed areas. I never saw one, but then I never wanted to either!

One spring when the folks were mowing there, I found some wild strawberries. They were beautifully ripe and tasted wonderful. I've never had wild strawberries since – I had some kind of reaction to them and was very sick that evening.

As I got older, I didn't enjoy trips to the cemeteries nearly as much. I lost both my grandfathers when I was 13, just three months apart. That had a profound effect on me, and I'd certainly had enough of cemeteries to last me for awhile after that summer. I think it was the following spring when Mom and Dad decided one warm evening they needed to check on something at the cemetery. I went with them, but I took a book and opted to stay in the car and read.

The warm sun was setting and the day was waning to dusk. I was sitting sideways on the back car seat with my legs stretched out on the seat, leaning back against the door with the warm breeze blowing through the open window. Knowing me, I was probably reading some engrossing mystery. I hadn't heard any movement at all when suddenly there was something cold and wet on the back of my neck.

I'm sure I jumped a foot as I swatted the back of my neck hard. I turned around, and there stood Dad. He was laughing so hard he could barely give me a hard time for slapping a poor innocent little bunny. Somewhere in the cemetery he'd come across a baby rabbit and managed to get hold of it. I don't know why he thought it would be fun to stick the critter's cold little nose on the back of my neck – but he thought it was a whole lot funnier than I did. He never knew how close his little angel came to using some really inappropriate language!

I'm comforted now when we go to the cemetery and I visit the resting spots of all my grandparents, Dad, 2 uncles and 2 cousins. Luckily, I've never had as exciting a visit as that spring evening when Dad found the bunny.