Random moments at the cemetery go so deep! A couple years ago my sister and I were standing over a grave of some very distant long-gone relative. My sister is deep into genealogy, and she had wanted to see his grave. But we didn’t know much about him at all. A woman came up to us, pointed to his grave, and she said, “When I was a little girl, he drove our school bus. One day, there was a horrible snowstorm, and the bus got stuck in a ditch. I was the last kid on the bus, so he carried me on his back a mile to the nearest farmhouse to keep me safe and warm until the road got cleared.”
Suddenly, this relative who had only been a name and some dates on a family tree had a beautiful story attached to him….I was so glad to have so randomly crossed paths with this lady.
Your story reminds me of the last line of a poem by Phillip Larkin, “What will survive of us is love.”
I love that story, Wini. How wonderful that this unknown relative became someone special with the telling of a loving memory. Timing is everything, for sure. How lucky that you were there the same time she was. The last line of that poem? Yes! Because what more can we leave behind but love?
What a wonderful story Connie. Thank you!
Thanks, Andy!
Random moments at the cemetery go so deep! A couple years ago my sister and I were standing over a grave of some very distant long-gone relative. My sister is deep into genealogy, and she had wanted to see his grave. But we didn’t know much about him at all. A woman came up to us, pointed to his grave, and she said, “When I was a little girl, he drove our school bus. One day, there was a horrible snowstorm, and the bus got stuck in a ditch. I was the last kid on the bus, so he carried me on his back a mile to the nearest farmhouse to keep me safe and warm until the road got cleared.”
Suddenly, this relative who had only been a name and some dates on a family tree had a beautiful story attached to him….I was so glad to have so randomly crossed paths with this lady.
Your story reminds me of the last line of a poem by Phillip Larkin, “What will survive of us is love.”
Thanks for this!!
I love that story, Wini. How wonderful that this unknown relative became someone special with the telling of a loving memory. Timing is everything, for sure. How lucky that you were there the same time she was. The last line of that poem? Yes! Because what more can we leave behind but love?
Great story, Connie, and so glad you shared it! You were there at the perfect time . . .again, timing is everything!
It really is! I will probably never see her again, but I will think of her and her brother.
I good story. Something as simple as a beer keeps their bond years later.
What a sweet story Connie! 💕🍻
Thanks, Sue. It was a really special moment.
By the way—it’s interesting your great grandparents died the same year. Is there a story there?
They were very close, and I think he was just ready to go be with her after she left.