April 9 HONOR HILL There is a beautiful little 17th century chapel situated on top of a hill covered with a blanket of yellow daffodils. Surrounding the chapel are hundreds of gravestones sitting up high and proud for all to see. Generations are here who have lived and loved in our little village. It was a delight for me to meet and learn from a tired, white haired and wrinkled old man who I watched as he struggled to walk up the hill. He used his cane and stopped briefly at many of the headstones. At some he brushed tears from his withered cheeks and at others I could hear him gently chuckle and tip his hat as he struggled higher up on the hill. He appeared to be getting more and more fatigued as he moved on and I walked over to him and asked if he needed some help getting up such a steep hill. “No, but thank you so much. I come here on every nice day to say hello to many friends who have gone before me. To walk past their head stones is to be reminded of what great friends they were and to discuss what I have yet before me. It’s very comforting as I read their names and remember.” He pointed to the right and said, “See there – that’s old Johnny. He was the best. He loved his family, his God and his community with passion. He taught me so much in life and is now teaching me in death as well. He and I had many laughs over the years and I miss him still today. “ He twisted around a bit and with a wistful look in his sad eyes he pointed further up the hill and said, “….and up there Emma is waiting for me.. and Joey ….. and Mike. I need to move on … they’re waiting for me.” I watched him struggle on, holding his cane and stopping every so often to share a bit of himself with his old friends. His wisdom was a special gift for me. I had never been a “big cemetery” visitor, but I sure as hell will be from now on. It’s the finest honor we can give to our departed loved ones. He was a wise old man and I will be sure to honor him when the time comes.