I have worked in hospice nursing for many years.

I have been humbled and honored to be invited to participate in the passing of many souls. I count it a great privilege to be allowed to be there at this very private time. A time we will all come to.

I believe that everyone should have a memorial to be remembered by.

I would like to share a poem.

Dear Ancestor

Your tombstone stands among the rest;

Neglected and alone

The name and date are chiseled out

On polished, marbled stone

It reaches out to all who care

It is too late to mourn.

You did not know that I exist

You died and I was born.

Yet each of us are cells of you

In flesh, in blood, in bone.

Our blood contracts and beats a pulse

Entirely not our own.

Dear Ancestor, the place you filled

One hundred years ago

Spreads out among the ones you left

Who would have loved you so.

I wonder if you lived and loved,

I wonder if you knew

That someday I would find this spot,

And come to visit you.

Author: Walter Butler Palmer (1906)