One of the many things I do during the holidays is to decorate the family graves. It's genetic, actually. My grandparents always ensured holiday blankets or wreaths were placed at the graves during the holidays, as did my mom, so it's natural that I, too, take on the job.
I have help from my sisters and mom, who tag along to make sure each wreath we place is tastefully done, and appropriately placed. It's one of the many ways we remember those we have lost...those we love. I know in my heart they appreciate our efforts.
Decorating the graves during the holidays is not only something we do here in this country. When I lived in Germany, I remember seeing the locals carry tiny bouquets to their family's graves each Christmas. I can remember vividly the tiny flicker of candles, set in mounds of snow, that were lit each evening. Incredibly beautiful. Incredibly soothing for those left behind.
Not everyone "gets it"; this obsession to ensure the graves are decorated for the holidays. It doesn't matter. I get it. My family gets it. And that's all that matters.
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