How Our Fathers Went Down ...

Recently we were able to make a trip out west to visit some of our kids.  This was a long anticipated trip but that's another story.  Today, it's something else.   I recently was poking around in Brombeere's family history and discovered that she has an ancestor buried not too far off the route we frequently take when we make this trip out west.  So we decided to make a stop and see if we could find the grave.

Originally, the plan had been to stop on the way out but we moved the time of our departure up which put us going by the cemetery after dark; we weren't sure we could find the headstone in the dark.  So we saved it for the trip home.  

The cemetery wasn't hard to find, but it was a bit out of the way.  Out on the plains, in the middle of nowhere.  Actually, it was a pretty nice setting.  We'd learned that this ancestor had moved out there after a conversation with a brother, who had suggested relocating.  Yeah, so that's what happened.  Unfortunately, a few years after moving they'd suffered a stroke and died and had been buried there, instead of in the county where all the rest of Brombeere's recent ancestors are buried.

So we stopped and had to hunt around to find the headstone.  But it was a small cemetery and it only took ten or fifteen minutes to find.

So we spent a while there, thinking and talking about the ancestor and their life, as we had been able to learn about it.  It was a good stop.  We were glad we had been able to stop.