First, set up.....Every year in May and December, I trek down to my home town to put some sort of wreath/basket on my parents' grave and my sister's grave. It is a two hour drive to the cemetary....then two back. Gives me a lot of time to think. This time I started wondering:
Why do I feel compelled to do this???? Heck, I even start feeling guilty if I don't make the trip.
My faith tells me that they aren't there. I stand in the cemetary, looking at the tombstones and reflect.
I don't do it so other's see me. I couldn't care less if anyone sees the wreaths or me there.
I sure don't do it because the trip is fun. It shoots a day, and puts me way behind on things I should be doing.
All I can come up with is:
- It helps me feel like I am paying respect to their memories.
- It forces me to go home....which does have a lot of nice memories.
- It helps me keep their memory alive in my head. When my dad passed away I promised myself I would never forget his voice. Damn it, I ended up forgetting it. I think I'm afraid I will forget more about them if I don't go down there every now and then.
- Deep, deep, deep down inside, I feel guilty about not helping these three more as they died. Without going into details, each situation had a spot where I could have done a heck of a lot more for them...and I didn't. So, guilt may play a part too.
I don't want to be a downer around the holidays. Just in one of those moods right now.
Anyway, don't give this too much of your time. I think writing the post has helped me understand some of it.