A Reflective Post on a Cemetery

You may remember from previous posts that I enjoy a cemetery. I enjoy walking through cemeteries and just reflecting on all the names and dates on the stones. I try hard to keep in mind that each name represents someone's mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, son, etc. someone that was very important to someone else and is missed by someone.
Yesterday on our bike trip in Oshkosh, John and I discovered the biggest cemetery we had ever seen besides Arlington National Cemetery. We rode our bikes up and down the meandering little roads that ran throughout the entire cemetery stopping to check out many of the stones.
We came upon a section of the cemetery that is set aside for babies. At this little girl's stone you can see two little rubber ducks. In her short life, I imagine she enjoyed little yellow ducks so that is what they put there for her. Hopefully, they have the gift of faith that promises us a home in heaven and the comfort that we will see our loved ones again.
This statue of God's loving hands holding a baby was situated between two little babies' stones. Their last names were different but perhaps their parents were friends who decided to share this beautiful statue for their little ones. As you approached this row of stones, the hands look as if they are scooping the baby right up from the ground.

This little boy was born and died on my birthday, three years before I was born. I imagine he was stillborn since they didn't give him a name. Back in those old days, parents couldn't find out the sex or health of a baby before he/she was born, so names were not given to the baby in utero. Now, with our modern technology, parents not only know the baby's sex but they also know if something is wrong with their baby and they often name that baby so even if he/she doesn't live outside the mom, he/she has a name and they have tried to build some memories to hang on to while pregnant.

Its hard to imagine the pain and sadness these parents endured on this earthly journey that ended in this cemetery. Imagine all the hopes and dreams that were buried along with their precious little one. Again, hopefully they all believed in Jesus and had the hope of heaven.

Many of the stones in this cemetery were very old. This one is from the 1800's. It is the gravesite of a little baby girl named Maggie. On this stone it stated her age as 9 months, 21 days. Long time ago, but someone felt great sadness when Maggie died. Feelings like that don't change over the centuries. I think Maggie's parents were believers since they chose a stone with a cross and little lamb on it. Rest in Peace, Maggie. Just think, by now Maggie is reunited with her loving family.

This stone has broken due to age. It said "Mother" on it. By now, I am sure there is probably no one left on this earth to care about the broken stone, I figure the cemetery staff repairs these things as best they are able. Sometimes I wonder how many ancestors of this person even know where she is buried. I am figuring after three to four generations one's family stops visiting graves and they are left unattended.

As we rode around the cemetery we spotted hundreds of American flags marking the graves of our fallen Veterans. Being Memorial Day weekend, these flags were just placed at these soldier's graves and it was a sombering sight. As we walked around and read the stones, we found that they covered many years and many wars, WW II, the Korean Conflict, Vietnam, the Gulf War, and Iraq. Amazing to see all these brave men and women together in one place. Many different wars, but all heroes fighting for my freedom. I hope none of us ever forgets the sacrifices they made on our behalf.

So much to learn and discover in a cemetery. I wonder if someday anyone will stop by my gravestone and think about what kind of life I had and what kind of person I was. Oh well, no matter, I will be partying with the best of them up in heaven so I won't care one way or the other!
To my readers, check out the previous post if you need to read more about our Memorial Day weekend.