Last Wednesday it was August 25 exactly four months before Christmas ( 116 days before Christmas www.xmasclock.com and it’s only a matter of time, way, way, before Halloween that we will be made known of that fact; in fact, depending on where you shop there may be some remnants of that right now.

YES, I AM THAT GUY Who normally tries to celebrate Christmas the 25th of every month and really, every day. I will be brutally honest with you, I feel most of the time even though I am that guy, the Christmas guy; a few years ago my coworkers gave me a Christmas tree for my birthday that said MERRY CHUCKMAS~~because I’m THAT guy

Yes, I took this video on a very windy March afternoon just three months after Christmas and so many months before we celebrate again. It was a reminder a very cold, chilly, and dismal reminder that every BEGINNING already has an ending tucked not so deeply inside of us that not so gently reminds us and everything around us that we don’t last forever. . . Unless something much deeper and much greater than a fading memory or a photographed moment could ever promise:    OUR LOVE

Our love often visits that which is dead and those who have died to remind us and always them that’s not a plot of earth that we commemorate or place them, but deep within our hearts that they continue to live as they always have, as they always do, and as they always will

Where do Christmas decorations go to die?  Sometimes you don’t have to look very far to find the answer and then to realize that the answer is not an answer at all but a small dusty-not-so-shiny-glimmer of hope that reminds us they haven’t died at all and never do. . .

We are the proof of that or we are not.     .     .

What SAY/SHOW you. . . ?

Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
Do you know what’s going to happen in 116 days.          .          .
Seriously,
why wait.            .             .
WHY BURY
WHAT NEVER DIES.   .   .   ?

How   do   YOU   know.        .          .

How do you ever really know

It’s  a  most  Sacred  Search.          .          .

Maybe  it’s  when  you  don’t  find

A     W A Y

o r

T  H  E        W   A   Y

but  simply

Y     O     U     R           W     A     Y.          .          .

It would have never been a search I would have begun except my father said he really wanted to get a grave marker for his older brother who was born in 1918 and died five months, five days later from Whooping Cough.

I had never known of my Uncle until somewhat recently when he told me about him having an older brother and him dying; he said it was never discussed in ‘those days’ but he thought it fitting that he have a grave marker.

My niece, Katie Farrer Hall did some research on this a few years ago and had secured death certificates for my Grandfather and uncle as well as a wedding license for my grandparents; and though we suspected he was buried in the same cemetery we weren’t 100% sure just where until.        .        .

It was their 66th wedding anniversary this past Thursday on June, 7th and Erin and I thought it would be a good idea if we went to Washington, PA to pick up my mom and take her to see my dad at the nursing home by way of Wheeling, WV where Mt. Zion Cemetery happen to be.

Here’s where it got kind of spookily LAW OF ATTRACTION/EVERYTHING-FIT-TOGETHER-SEAMLESSLY-MIRACULOUS.          .          .

The Cemetery was in shambles and upkept by 4 volunteers.     .     . 2 of them JUST HAPPENED TO BE THERE THIS MORNING WHEN WE WERE THERE          .          .  

The lady who keeps records just happened to be there because her husband’s funeral was THAT AFTERNOON.      .     .

A guy (Stephen) who wasn’t suppose to be there to begin with, that morning,  stopped weed whacking and asked if he could help.  When we told him that we were looking for my grandparents grave.  He went to the record lady whose husband was to buried that afternoon, (Paula) who gave us the burial lot 2025 and when we were trying to find it he said, YOU  KNOW  THERE’S  a  JR. BURIED  WITH  ELLSWORTH. I was just looking for THEIR GRAVE at this point.            .          .

B                    A                    M   !

Our knees almost buckled when he shared THAT information before I even asked him; told him, that’s why we were really there.          .          .

And then I was blown away that the grave was in such good shape.       .        .

It’s severely hill, overgrown, sunken roads, fallen headstones mess.          .        .

with numerous toppled over tombstones because of landslides

It was like looking for a pin in a haystack and

F I N D I N G      A      D I A M O N D.           .          .

How do you ever really know

It’s  a  most  Sacred  Search.          .          .

Maybe  it’s  when  you  don’t  find

A     W A Y

o r

T  H  E        W   A   Y

but  simply

Y     O     U     R           W     A     Y.          .          .