This evening after violin lessons, Katherine begged to visit the old cemetery in town. It's an interesting place, with huge old trees and age-worn graves - many are well over 100 years old.
I have never seen cemeteries as spooky, or even all that sad. Kate the histoy buff finds them totally fascinating.
We read off names and giggled at some. Katherine is grateful we did not name her Maude! I had never heard of an actual person named Rosencrans. We are both relieved that our last name is not Hoots.
We studied the many styles of gravestones, some very plain and others overly elaborate. Why did people choose the kind they did? What were they trying to say?
We read off birth and death dates and Kate did the math to figure out how old people had been. We talked about how many graves of children we saw and how some families lost more than one child. We talked about diseases that are treatable now and that the immunization shots that the girls have received will prevent them from dying of diseases that once killed thousands.
At one of the oldest stones, Katherine commented that no one knows who lays there, there's no one left to remember them. She asked me where my relatives are buried. We acknowledged that we will never know where Kate's Chinese relatives are buried. "I wish someone from my family was buried here," she said. "So that I could come and see them."