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Cemetery Blues.

Sunday morning time to visit the cemetery and see to the graves of those that have gone on before. Check once again before getting into the car. Bag with candles, matches, batteries for the flashing little red light that is supposed to last for at least three months. Small fork, cleaning materials and watering can.

Off we go as silent as can be do not want to disturb the neighbours who might still be enjoying the Sunday morning lay in. Not much traffic about. Must remember not to swear every time a traffic light stops us. Must remember it is Sunday and there are many Sunday drivers on the road.

Get to the Cemetery Gates. Read once again the notice No responsibility will be taken for accidents in this Cemetery. Paths will not be cleared in the case of snow falling. Use at your own risk.

Go through the gates that some kind soul has opened before we arrived. The gates to the cemetery are heavy iron gates that cringe when one tries to open them. The noise is like the groaning of a poor lost soul condemned to wander the Cemetery for the rest of eternity.

Stepping carefully along the lightly gravelled paths reading the names of those that have gone on before we reach our Grave. I have no animo to do anything. My standing motto is, It will soon be my turn to lay in that grave and I myself could not care less if a candle is lit or the candle with the battery driven everlasting flame is switched on or not. One day my remains will be a long time dead in that urn where my burnt blackened ashes will be placed. Why should any one be condemned to clean the stones where my name is engraved with a couple of dates? In a hundred years no one will be alive to remember that I ever existed. So what am I doing here on this Sunday Morning when I could be having a nice long lay in my own comfortable bed?

The candles are lit a few leaves brushed away from the neighbouring graves and off back home. Tempted to throw the sack with all its Cemetery candles and matches and cleaning things into the dustbin. The Dustbin Man comes to morrow let him take all of that rubbish with him.

Words to myself :- Try not to think too much about what will happen next Sunday you will upset yourself all week, apart from that with a little luck it will rain all day and you may stay at home and have a peaceful Sunday.