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It’s not about the flowers




I hope everyone had a safe Memorial weekend and got to go to the cemeteries where their loved ones lie. I realize that many had to travel long distances to do this and a good many met with misfortune along the way. Many do not make an effort to visit the graves of their loved ones even if they are close to where they live. Some will say they didn’t have any money for flowers as an excuse, but flowers have nothing to do with remembering, they are only for show, for mankind to look upon. I believe making an effort to visit the grave site is important.

I want my flowers while I am living and I don’t mean real flowers either. Just think what a rose you would give your mother or dad if you gave your life to Jesus. We often sing a song in church “just one rose will do” and to me that is a cry from the heart of a dear old mother or dad wanting to see their child give their life to the one who gave it to begin with; it’s not about real flowers.

That kind of rose will not fade away with time but will last forever. The real and living Flower bloomed on the third and appointed day. You can call Him a flower or a rose or whatever you like, but he came out of the tomb on the third day and is alive forever more. I didn’t get to visit the graves of my loved ones this year because I only have the strength to walk a very short distance.

I fully intend to go if the Lord sees fit to give me the strength to make it because I have six different cemeteries to visit. I made it last year with God’s help but this is another time, another year and I have been through a lot. I could care less if I take any flowers or not as long as I get to go.

I hate to see anyone buried and forgotten and that is about what happened with Mother. I don’t have any knowledge of Dad ever returning to Mother’s grave after he remarried and none of us four siblings even knew where her grave was until our Uncle Raymond took me to it. We only knew it was in Breathitt County. I was 34 years old when I went to her grave for the first time. We were strictly forbidden to ever mention our mother in the presence of our stepmother.

I have spent my entire life loving and missing a mother that I can’t even remember because I was too young when she died and we didn’t get to go to her funeral either. That might have helped but I just don’t know because I had just turned three.

I am just what the Lord made me and I don’t pretend to be something that I’m not here on the funny farm.


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