When I was six, my family moved from Salt Lake City to Sandy, Utah. The move put my dad much closer to his job as the manager of a local cemetery. Cemeteries were never scary places for me. Sometimes we would go visit my dad at work and my sister and I would roller skate all around the little roads going through the grounds. Once we even slept overnight because, in my recollection, there was some concern that someone might try to steal or play a prank on the body that was being kept there for a funeral the next day. My dad brought the hot air popper and a small television and we had a great time.
Memorial Day weekend was always fun because my sister and I would dress up in our Sunday best and serve punch and cookies to all the visitors. While that weekend must have been quite difficult for some, what I remember is a lot of happy people visiting with us as we served them their refreshments. Maybe we brightened their day just a little. It's a good memory.
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| ca. 1978 |
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{This photo was taken on Easter - aren't we lovely!? - but knowing me, I probably wore the same yellow crocheted dress that year to serve on Memorial Day.}
3 comments:
It's a shame Steve still hasn't gotten over his thumb-sucking habits...
Interesting perspective you have. What a great way to serve others. I can see so much of your kids in you!
Our church choir used to practice in a mortuary (too many other meetings going on in our building.) Being there with bodies was freaky at first, but after a while it didn't bother me at all. Now I love cemeteries! Thanks for your comment on my blog. I love hearing from readers!
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