We went exploring on our way home the other day. I wanted to go by this cemetery I’d happened upon several years ago by accident. I’d been excited to be with my girl friends and headed for a long day’s ride across country roads–about thirty miles. We’d been planning this ride for some time, and we were driving along dirt roads I knew well and singing at the top of our lungs and before I knew it, I’d gone right past where the horses were wintering and into unfamiliar territory. Not wanting to call for directions, having to then admit that I’d screwed up, we just kept going. I thought, eventually, I’d come to a road I knew. Instead, we came to the Mildred Cemetery where I had to admit defeat and call for directions to get back!

When we found it this time, I was struck by how different it seemed from the picture that had stayed in my mind all these years. It is a beautiful spot and many of those buried here were so young, reminding me again of how thankful I am for modern medicine. I can’t imagine the sorrow and grief contained in the inscriptions of children, many who did not live a full day, lost in childbirth to loving parents who’d anticipated their coming for so many months.

Today, I am thankful for the lives of all of those I love and have loved and who love and have loved me.