Went up to Cottonwood, last Sunday, to hang with Mom for Mother's day.M made salmon, asparagus and sweet potato fries while Mom and I walked down to the nearby cemetery, at my behest*, and wandered around.
*I should mention, this particular cemetery holds some of the Verde Valley's original settler's, has been a source of fascination since my teen years -and- I'd recently discovered my buddy Lem has kin there. Curious, I'd promised to look in on on them.
It sounds like a strange Mother's day activity, I know, circumnavigating graves, but there was a poignancy to it:
All those lives that had come and gone before us, the care with which some of the headstones had been made (one, written in a crude but personal cursive which must've taken days to carve out) and the barren arizona hardpan...I could almost hear the voices blowing across the desert, faint but insistent:
"Regard me, remember me, for as I once was..."
Sobering, yes, but it made me feel all the more lucky to be sharing the day with my Mom.
We never did find the grave we were looking for.
Dinner, however, was lovely.
