We drove through the oldest part of the cemetery. Only God remembers these folk, how they lived, how they died.

"We are the only ones in here," he says.

"Alive . . ." I reply.

Born 1754-Died 1803

Born 1821-Died 1845

Many ancient dates carved in stone.

This section is void of flowers, real or otherwise. We do not spy even a stray plastic petal. They were not invented yet when these stones were set. 

 We leave this part and move on to the more recent. The stones tell stories.

This one is very moving. "His last words, 'Good Bye my Men, leave me, save yourselves.' " He was lost at sea. Lost but not forgotten. His men placed this stone here to mark his courage and his unselfishness. We are moved by their story. 

These plain white markers, reminders of the great and terrible civil war. 

We are grateful to those who serve. Our son, Josiah is at sea. He left the first week of September on a submarine mission. We do not know where he is or when he will return. We are so proud of him. We ache with missing him though.

I remember him coming home once, fully dressed in navy attire. Many folk stopped to thank him for serving, shaking his hand, or patting him on the back. Their gratitude moved me to tears. He told me that it happens all the time. 

Thank you for being grateful, my friends.  

Thank you to all who have served! Thank you for laying down your life for us. We are a grateful people. I am praying for you! 

"Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends." John 15:13