My dad was laid to rest 45 years ago in the cemetery behind the Centerhill Church of Christ. I believe he was the first of many in my family to be buried there. I can still remember parts of his funeral especially the sound of taps being played by a bugler, the firing of rifles and the flags.
Throughout my life I have visited daddy's gravesite many times but one particular time stands out in my mind. I was a young girl probably around than 6 or 7 years old. It was my first visit to the cemetery since learning to read. I was standing by my daddy's grave reading the inscriptions on his tombrock when I discovered my daddy's name was not the only name engraved there. I was stunned to see momma's name right there on the gray marble next to his.
"Momma, what is your name doing there?" I asked her.
"That's where I'll be buried when I die," She answered.
"But momma, you ain't gonna die."
"Well, I reckon I will someday. Everybody's gonna die one of these days," she bluntly replied. No sugar coating for momma, she laid it all on the line.
Waves of shock shot through my body. That was the day I realized that everybody would one day go to meet their maker. It wasn't that I was worried about meeting my maker. I just didn't want my momma going off to meet hers. Who would make Koolaid and buy Apple Jacks for my brothers and me?
That was more years ago than I care to remember and as most of you know, momma is still here. She hasn't made Koolaid in a long time but she makes a mean bowl of punch for our annual Christmas open house. People come by the shop every year on the first Saturday in November to get a glass of her punch.
I wish I could rewind life to that day in the cemetery. I would tell the young girl that I was, not to worry about momma going anywhere anytime soon.
Unfortunately, life doesn't come with a rewind or fast forward button. Worrying about tomorrow is just wasting today and there are better ways to pass the time like sipping on a glass of momma's special punch.
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