Memories Can't Wait

This is it. The beginning of summer. Gas up the station wagon and head out on the highway. It is expected - required. Perhaps in tribute to this notion, the Indianapolis 500 takes place on this very weekend as well - a 500 mile trip with only left turns.
This was the weekend that we would head up to the mountains to open our cabin for the season. A little like "On Golden Pond" without the loons. But before we went to the cabin, we stopped at Mountain View Cemetery. My mother walked around with dozens of cut iris from our yard, decorating the graves of the near and dear departed. The three boys always seized the opportunity to frolic and play on the field artillery piece that sat in a corner of the cemetery - standing watch over a very quiet patch of earth.
It has only recently occurred to me that "Mountain View Cemetery" is not unlike having a street named "Broadway" in your town. I live just a few miles away from a Mountain View Cemetery - about a hundred miles away from the nearest "mountain." A number of people who have lived here all their lives learned how to drive on the narrow gravel paths - I suppose in the worst possible scenario, it would be a great timesaver for any really bad drivers. I digress.
It took many years for me to start making a personal connection to the names on the markers and the people they named. I don't much care for cemeteries these days, as I have more and more intimate connections with the folks who have ended up there. I've buried friends, aunts, uncles, and a father. I prefer to keep my distance when I can - I'm sure I'll find my way back there by and by.
Memorial Day - a chance to head out on the highway and reflect on our own mortality before the summer begins in earnest. "I'm wide awake but these memories can't wait." - David Byrne