Our townhome community is situated next to a set of railroad tracks and a graveyard, which sounds worse than it is. I rarely notice the low rumble of freight rolling past us anymore. And our neighbors at Evergreen Cemetery, have become some of my favorite people in town to visit.
Their stories are captured in a few chiseled letters on silent gray stone: a name, dates, perhaps a Bible verse or a few words. Long lives. Brief ones. Each one preaches to me, reminding me I am dust, and to dust I will return. It is holy ground, and shifts my perspective without fail.
In advance of this Memorial Day weekend, a few pictures from tonight’s time with my neighbors: