Today, Martha and I traveled to Warsaw for one of my thrice-annual visits to my folks’ gravesite; late June, around the time of Dad’s birthday, is typically when one of those trips happens. As usual, I ordered flowers from Ribbons & Roses, the town floral shop. It’s a continuation of the practice my father started years ago for his parents and aunt (I go only about half as often as he did, but then again, I’m over twice as far away). The proprietor and I often have a bit of a conversation about Dad, and today was no exception—among other things, we talked about some odd occurrences at her shop as my great-aunt’s house, a block away, was being demolished (they involve a rodent and seventy-five carnations) and how she helped Dad deliver his flowers to the cemetery toward the end of his years as he grew weaker.
Warsaw Cemetery is maybe a quarter-mile from R & R; we took the beautiful bouquet and placed it behind Dad’s stone. After I talked to Mom and Dad for a while, Martha and I split up and began a quest.
Yesterday I told a little about my father’s first-grade teacher, Ms. Mabel Lucas. What I didn’t mention was that while I was putting that post together, I learned that Ms. Lucas was also buried in Warsaw. We were seeking her gravestone. I didn’t necessarily plan to take as much time as was needed to find it today, but at the least I wanted to eliminate some portion of the cemetery for the next visit.
I was in luck—I came across it in less than 15 minutes. It’s actually within view of my parents’ site, a couple of rows back and maybe a half-dozen plots to the left. We stood there just a while, and then Martha made a capital suggestion: “Why not go back to Ribbons & Roses and get a flower for Miss Mabel? Surely your dad would have done that himself.”
So that’s what we did after lunch.
It’s been a stormy day throughout Kentucky. The rain and thunder missed Warsaw until well after we left in the early afternoon, but I fear that the bouquet and daisy have been blown around and damaged now. For a short while today, though, teacher and pupil were gifted with flowers.
The Music of My Life 