In Loving Memory…

We went to visit Jason’s grandpa this morning. Considering the fact that he currently resides somewhere in Kolob, he didn’t have much to say.

I love Memorial Day. When I was a kid my mom would cut huge bunches of lilacs and snowballs from the trees in our yard and we’d drop them off at the local cemetary. The smell of lilacs still reminds me of dead people.

So this morning we roused the kids bright and early and piled into the car to visit Jason’s only deceased relative (now that I think about it, he’s probably got a few more of them). It’s a gorgeous day and we attempted to tell the kids a few things about their great-grandfather on the drive to Ogden.

They definitely didn’t get it. I think they thought they were going to get to meet him in person. We told them about his bread truck, as a younger man he drove a delivery route for General Mills. They thought that was extremely cool. I think they pictured a big loaf of bread sitting on the back of a truck (too much Magic School Bus).

But here’s the thing about Memorial Day. You make this big deal to the kids, all “party at the cemetery” like, get everyone stoked to put flowers on the grave, tons of hype. But you get there, walk over, drop off the flowers, and spend the next seven minutes of the visit trying to keep your children from playing leap frog across the headstones.

I think next year we’d do a better job of paying our respects by keeping the kiddies at home. Of course we won’t. This is training for future years when we’re dead and gone. I want my kids to hold a grave side Memorial Day service each year, complete with weeping, wailing and bratwurst. Now that will be a good party.


  1. Yeah, parties at the cemetary are always awesome.

  2. I love Memorial Day, too. The cemeteries are always so gorgeous—and I think it’s a nice way to remember to people who lived, rather than mourn the fact that they’re no longer with us.

  3. Carnations that’s my dead person smell. I had never thought of bratwurst at my yearly weeping party I’ll have to put that in my will, Salt and Vinegar chips would be good too I think.

    • I like cemetaries. Cool old cemeteries ezpecially. But I didn’t visit one this memorial day. As my dad said the first year after his mom died, we can tell lies about her just as well at home as we can at the graveside.

  4. I thinkk that’s why I loved going to the cemetery when I was younger, leap-frogging over the markers.

  5. I get this. . . I just wish my husband did too!

  6. Hey, ya ever thought maybe all those dead people LOVE it when the kids play leap frog over the head stones. It is just a reminder that life goes one —as it should. It’s not really disrrespctful. I’d love it if when I die, my kids bring a kareoke machine and have a “par-tay”
    I may be dead —BUT I’M NOT DEAD
    And also I have warned them they better bring REAL flowers, not some dumb plastic arrangement (hate those—-sorry to any of you who do that, just me)

  7. My dad call people like you “grave visitors” and he’s threatened us that if we ever come near his grave…. anyway, we never got to hang out at cemeteries as kids. Not that I mind them, I’m just not especially attached to cement slabs. I’m pretty sure that I’ve never been back to my mom’s gravesite. I’m also pretty sure that my mom’s spirit isn’t stuck inside that cement vault, either. Good thing, too else I wouldn’t want to die, ever.

    Peppermint oil reminds me of dead people, but for entirely different reasons. As a nurse, death doesn’t always smell very pretty. It can be fairly awkward, though, when I blurt out, “who died?” just because I get a whiff of peppermint 🙂

  8. I like the cemetary. Atleast the one by us, some cemetary’s are seriously creepy. You know the ones: high walls, dark, dead people, zombies…
    Okay I’ve gone back into Fablehaven now, see ya later! 😉

  9. Where in Ogden? My Grandparents are buried in North Ogden cemetary but I didn’t get a chance to go up there today.

    We did get to go to Hubby’s Grandparents’ graves and drop off flowers. I love seeing all of the flowers, flags and decor. It is a great day at the cemetary. I loved seeing everyone there, having fun… at a cemetary! Go figure.

  10. I don’t go and visit the dead. I know, totally mean of me… but I don’t.

    So my kids don’t have leap frogging memories and I don’t know what my flower dead person smell is…

  11. Shelle, I don’t visit cemetaries either. I briefly thought about it this year and worried (again briefly) that I was disrespectful / not teaching my kids, etc. My Grandpa died this January and everyone said, “Are you going to go visit him?” Here’s the thing: his grave is an hour and a half drive away and he’s not even there!” I mean, sure, several feet under the ground is his physical body but it’s not like he’s using it anymore. So, even though I loved him to death (no pun intended) I don’t think a long drive to visit a headstone really does more good than thinking about him at home does. He’s not forgotten. That’s all I think I really want when I die: to not be forgotten. I think I’d think it was a silly waste of a day for my kids to come talk to a plot (unless of course they need to do it for their own reasons. I know some people are more sensitive than I am and actually feel the need for this stuff.)

  12. Love visiting family/graves on Memorial Day. My mom also trucked us around…I guess it’s because you guys have the same dad, yah? Anyway, we go also. We visited Bonka’s grave a few weeks ago and Brody kept asking when we were getting to his ‘house.’ I couldn’t explain the concept, he finally got it when we arrived at the cemetary and no house was in sight!

    Good job teaching your kids to remember what Memorial Day is all about. The kinds of traditions that teach our kids that life is more than just about them and what they think is fun is important. Again, I am sure this is the Valentine in me coming out.

  13. Oh, don’t mean to be preachy…to each his own 🙂

  14. Mums are our “dead people” flowers

  15. This has to be my favorite post about visiting dead people. And kids. You are. Awesome.

  16. Hello!! Kolob!! That’s in my neck of the woods. And we used to do that in the other town we lived in when we were close to my hubby’s family’s grave sites. It taught the kids respect for the day and for their ancestors.