memories are made of this ~ looking back
we did that yesterday - my family have their own cemetery - well it was, back in the late 1800's, but has now been taken over by the local council due to historical value. You have to be related to my dad's family to be buried there. I love old cemeteries * the gorgeous statues & headstones * the fences around the graves and the lovely decorations that are found on some - shells, vases and lovely old china flowers.
we decided to have lunch at the reception venue yesterday and while we were sitting there chatting away, I realized that we were just around the corner from the cemetery & thought while I was there, I would go visit my dad and grandparents.
It has certainly changed, where there was an old rickety post & rail fence built by my grandpa, there now stands a concrete replica, which just doesn't quite have the same quaintness as the original. And the catholics are on the inside of the fence now !! - I can remember as a child seeing about 4 graves outside the boundary fence and my mum would say to me, in a hushed voice ~ 'they are the catholics'. Of course ,I had no idea what 'catholics' were at the age of 4. I have since converted to catholocism, much to my grandma's disgust, I am sure, as I was told that she would 'turn in her grave'. Isn't it wonderful though, that this bridge has been crossed and all denominations are now happily 'residing side by side' within the boundary. I laugh now at the catholic/anglican thing that I grew up with but I guess that is how people were, back then.
I found my dad's grave - he has been put with my grandpa - and I remembered vividly the day he died, it was mothers day. I can remember the week before too, as on the Friday, I had to do meals on wheels and he wanted to come with me. But me, being impatient, said no. And I will never, ever forget that, as it was only two days after that he died and I will always feel that I didnt have time for him.
Don't get me wrong - he came to my place nearly everyday for a cup of tea and company but this day, I just didnt want him with me as I was bothered about stuff and yes, annoyed that I would have to listen to him for hours.
anyhow, after that long drawn out story - we continued driving * over the river on the punt * down to the town where I grew up and I pointed out my grandparents home and the mulberry tree we use to climb to get the most amazing mulberries * where I went to Sunday school * my primary school * where my friends lived ( amazingly gorgeous houses now) * where we had bonfire nights and my uncles orange orchard. Where my dad would go to get fruit and vegies to transport to the Sydney markets and then bring bags of fresh sweet corn home for us........ ahh memories - that is what vintage life is made of !!!!