Genealogy Chat

YOUR TOMBSTONE STANDS AMONG THE REST NEGLECTED AND ALONE THE NAME AND DATE HAVE WORN OFF THE WEATHERED MARBLE STONE IT REACHES OUT TO ALL WHO CARE. IT'S NOW TOO LATE TO MOURN YOU DID NOT KNOW THAT I'D EXIST YOU DIED....AND I WAS BORN YET EACH OF US ARE CELLS OF YOU IN FLESH, IN BLOOD, IN BONE. OUR HEARTS CONTRACT AND BEAT A PULSE ENTIRELY NOT OUR OWN DEAR ANCESTOR, THE PLACE YOU FILLED SOME HUNDRED YEARS AGO SPREADS OUT AMONG THE ONES YOU LEFT WHO WOULD HAVE LOVED YOU SO I WONDER HOW YOU LIVED AND LOVED. I WONDER IF YOU KNEW THAT SOMEDAY I WOULD FIND THIS PLACE AND COME TO VISIT YOU

I already have that, printed off, and standing proudly on my wall. It means a great deal. Thank you for sharing it.

That is lovely, thanks for sharing it.

what is written down is what ive thought to myself many times,nice one .bobby bailey

Janet, That is really beautiful and expresses exactly what most of us feel when we start looking into those in our past. We owe our existence to them - our past, our present and our future generations. I have copied this and when I finally produce my family tree book to pass down to MY descendants I will place it at the beginning and hope they will think of me in that way when I am gone. Thank you for sharing this. Dea x (Gosh - I feel quite tearful)

how lovely, I've printed it too. thank you Christine

That is a lovely poem. Also, thank you Dea you have just given me the idea to make a family book as well. I think thats a great idea. Amy

I agree totally with Dea, this is beautiful. Particularly moving when I look back at all the deaths in infancy I have in my tree. Printed off and a suitable frame to be found. Christine.

I've just lost my mum and am taking her to her family plot soon so coming across this is lovely and I'll be sharing it with those attending. Thank you.

The first words a very relivent to me at this moment my parents grave is in a very bad way,only thirty years old but falling apart and you can't read their names, so last week we ordered a new headstone, doing my family history i wanted in a hundred years + for people to know who and where they were, can't realy afford it but it upset me to go there and see it,my husband keep saying that we'd do something oneday then last week he said come on wer'e going to get a new one,and did,

Do you know who wrote the poem?

What a lovely poem, so simple but full of meaning. I googled it http://members*shaw*ca/cullen/Sean-Poem*htm It said author unknown. I have printed it off too.

bumped for newbies, as I love this poem.

nudged for Jayne...:)

Ah, that's lovely... Here it is again in a poem format: Your tombstone stands among the rest neglected and alone The name and date have worn off the weathered marble stone It reaches out to all who care It's now too late to mourn You did not know that I'd exist You died....and I was born Yet each of us are cells of you in flesh, in blood, in bone Our hearts contract and beat a pulse entirely not our own Dear ancestor, the place you filled some hundred years ago Spreads out among the ones you left who would have loved you so I wonder how you lived and loved I wonder if you knew That someday I would find this place and come to visit you.

awwwww I'm in bits! it's lovely, have printed it and when I find the graves I want to I'm going to put it on the flowers i leave

Beautiful poem and I too will use it. I was just thinking ,though, how lucky we are to have tombstones. In a hundred or two years how will our descentdents fare when they are (if they do) research? An instance of this is my dearest friend and neighbour who passed away last Sunday. Her son died 2 weeks ago and was cremated. Her husband died 11 years ago and he was cremated and she's kept his ashes. She has been cremated and hers and her husband's ashes are being intermingled and cast on the banks of a river in the summer on the land they own. There will be no markers and no grave records and eventually no one in the family on the place. Only those there at the private ceremony will know.

Thanks Janet, I have been looking for that one . Can I share this one , a reason I do what I do Strangers in the Box Come, look with me inside this drawer, In this box I've often seen, At the pictures, black and white, Faces proud, still, serene. I wish I knew the people, These strangers in the box, Their names and all their memories Are lost among my socks. I wonder what their lives were like, How did they spend their days? What about their special times? I'll never know their ways. If only someone had taken time To tell who, what, where, or when, These faces of my heritage Would come to life again. Could this become the fate Of the pictures we take today? The faces and the memories Someday to be passed away? Make time to save your stories, Seize the opportunity when it knocks, Or someday you and yours could be The strangers in the box. Author: Pam Harazim

I really loved it - have printed it off. Thanks.

Nudged up for others - its lovely.