I had the pleasure of camping recently at Potato Creek State Park in North Liberty, Indiana.
I love their bike trail!
If you don't know about my OCD camping ways - have a gander at THIS (in fact, you may want to read it after you've read this rather morbid post-I have tears rolling down my cheeks from laughter after reading it - that's one of the things I love about blogging - going back and reading where I was a year ago)
I'm happy to report, that no citations were issued for excessive foil usage, and I didn't even notice too many messy towel violations.
I've discovered that Benadryl helps me sleep through any serial killer fears.
It was a good trip.
I even got to meet a blog friend!
M and I have been corresponding back and forth for about a year - I knew she didn't live too far from the campground and asked her if she'd like to stop by for a visit.
I'm so glad she said yes.
What a doll!
I absolutely love meeting you guys - and so does the BoyChild.
What a smile, eh?
What I found most profound about this camping trip, and I thought today was a good day to talk about it - since it was 9 years ago today that I was preparing for my own mother's funeral - was the fact that there's a cemetery smack down in this state park.
I'm just gonna say this -
I love cemeteries.
I love walking around and seeing the old headstones.
I like imagining their life's story.
I like figuring out how old they were when they passed.
I loved that Aaron was as into it as I was.
There was so much heartache in this cemetery.
Look at the ages of these children if you can -
And these - all from the same parents -
Leaving the cemetery I was struck by the fact that I haven't really experienced heartache.
Yes - I've lost my parents -
yes, I've lost friends and have had 'normal' heartaches -
but my heartaches seemed to pale in comparison to this poor woman who lost all of her children, three at birth.
I realized how incredibly blessed my life has been.
More joy than heartache - which perhaps has something to do with my perspective of things.
I didn't want to forget - so I took a cutting of this rose from the grave.
Why do I like cemeteries so much?
They remind me that there is an end.
They remind me that I'm alive now.
That's it's not too late.
It's not too late to change, it's not to late to make amends, it's not to late to speak a kind word, and show love to the people in your life.
If you are reading this blog, you've been given a great gift -
(no - not reading my drivel!)
You have breath in your nostrils.
You are alive.
You are living your " - ".
One day, there will be a date after that dash.
1962 - ?
Make the most of your dash today.
It's not too late.