The Caretaker

2022 by Bret Steven Whitmore

It's true. I visit more than most,

this place amidst old trees;

its hoary grounds now rife with snags;

worn stones that bark your knees.

Old friends have asked why I come still.

Is it discontent or grief?

Is my mourning unassuageable?

Do I struggle with belief?

The kin at rest beneath this earth

I never once have met.

But we share a name; our blood the same,

before this rude neglect.

They lived and loved as you have too,

and in this world knew strife.

They made a home and left a mark

before their end-of-life.

Their hearts and hands touched many lives.

They tended many seeds.

They nursed and mentored, laughed and cried.

But now they rest in weeds.

I come here under sun and rain,

in wind and winter snow.

I come here every now and then

because these things I know:

How sad it is to be forgot.

How lonely sunken dirt.

As life goes on and ages pass,

How little bones are worth.

Think not of me. Where I reside,

the astral viewpoints high.

Still, I cannot help but think of them

forgotten where they lie.

I try to ask-- but you can't hear--

my pleas this vigil keep.

I come to beckon those who live

to care for those who sleep.

Not to stay forever yet,

(for your time's still to come),

But just to bring a thought or tear,

of warmth from hearth and home.

Not all the mortal coils that rest

beneath this o're-grown sod

took time to pray, nor live their best

before the call of God.

And while their souls were called away

to leave their bones on Earth,

I linger now to seek and pray

for one day their rebirth.

My hands they can no longer tend,

nor clean, nor trim, nor mow.

You're needed now. The torch was passed

a-many years ago.

No eyes will see me wandering here,

should you stroll these quiet rows.

But none need think me one to fear,

a-pace behind the stones.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Born and raised within a half-mile of my Mom's father's (Utley family) first homestead in rural Worth Township, Sanilac County, Michigan, I've been interested in my family's pioneer tales since my Grandmother first shared her interesting stories of 'the good old days' when I was barely 12. Her wonderful narratives in the classic oral tradition lit a fire of curiosity within me that has never gone out!

I've been a long-time (and very proud) South Dakotan since the Air Force assigned me here for the second (and last) time in 1993. (TSgt, USAF Cold War Veteran, 8 Dec 1981-10 Jul 1996.) My children were both born here in the early 1980's, so our roots were already well established by then.

I am intrigued by the lessons great and small we can learn by all who lived before us. Even those with so-called 'simple' lives had unique experiences, times of tragedy or triumph, challenges and opportunities, and there are important lessons we can glean from all of them. I am a lifetime student of history in-general, and I even served as a professional historian for several years. My particular interest in my own ancestors is focused on Whitmore, Utley, Odlum, Emeigh, McDonald, Kipp, and all their related families. But I am also willing to help others (kin or not!) whenever I can.

If I can be of any assistance to other Find a Grave members, please feel free to email me!