Saturday, December 6, 2014

A Little Genealogical Humor


I have spent a little bit of time over the past 30+ years visiting cemeteries - in and around Zion and Staunton, IL, Kenosha and Sheboygan, WI, Bismarck, ND, Boston, MA, Toronto, Canada, England, Scotland, wherever we might have some ancestor buried. The lady in the office in Kenosha even knows me by sight now. Someone from England sent me this poem about tombstones that I thought was pretty good.    JHD

Thoughts at the Cemetery

 
Dear Ancestor;

Your tombstone stands among the rest;

Neglected and alone.

The name and date are chiseled out

On polished, marbled stone.

It reaches out to all who care

It is too late to mourn.

You did not know that I exist;

You died and I was born.

Yet each of us are cells of you

In flesh, in blood, in bone.

Our blood contracts and beats a pulse

Entirely not our own.

Dear Ancestor, the place you filled

One hundred years ago

Spreads out among the ones you left

Who would have loved you so.

I wonder if you lived and loved,

I wonder if you knew

That someday I would find this spot,

And come to visit you.

 

1 comment:

  1. I like this poem! It's amazing to think that part about the cells-- our DNA is really pieces of all those people that you're seeking out.

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