A Story of Each Grave

Saturday was decoration at Corum. This has and always be an event that I try really hard not to miss. The difference this year was that we had a new family member with us. Baby Mak attended her first experience helping us clean the rocks and arrange the flowers. Kenny and Dee Dee always attend; a day that I love because of my love for them. Malorie, my baby girl was my child that came with me this year. The turn out was better than usual this year. I am older now, realizing that I am now a leader of the family. Grandmother said many times, "I wonder if someone will remember to put flowers on my grave after I am gone?" Yes, we do is the answer to that. When I say "my grandmother said.", that is more of a profound statement. What she said was always monumental to me and shoule be to everyone I tell what she always said. The graves are all lined up together, as they were all lined up together in life. My feelings for them very, from deep abiding love to hate. We are all guilty of work doing at one time or another and forgive is something I try to do; it is hard when the evil has caused me much depression for my whole life. Maybe what will I have to day was brought on by the UN-speakable abuse. Unconditional love for the most is what I feel for the seven that are laid to rest in a row in Corum. We cut the grass there once a month with a push mower. My grandmother had a story for every grave we cut around. Some of them the juiciest gossip a young teenage girl loved to hear. Ed Corum followed Leila Corum to her house each day to eat lunch. Ben Clemons didn't work as hard as his wife. Nadean Wright loved Shorty from the time she was a child. Pauline Garner had the biggest rock in Corum. Jean Corum loved Homer more than life it self. Polly Corum was a hard worker. Gary Corum died at eighteen of Leukaemia. His funeral was in the Lexington High school Gym. His mom had nerve problems after his death. The graves in the middle with field rocks for markers had the last name Barnett. The grave with a picture of a couple at the other side of the cemetery; the guy was shot. Grandmother always said she would marry again and not be buried where her picture was on a rock. I am just saying if my grandmother said it, something profound had been said. Perfect maybe she was not, but I listened and learned. I gathered life from her is what I did.