Actually, I'm not sure if it's called Old Church Cemetery, but that's what we call it. After lunch, The Daughters and I always walk through Old Church Cemetery. Typically, we'll walk for about five minutes and then The Daughters get hot. The younger cousins would emerge from lunch, and I would eventually find myself walking the cemetery alone.
We also noticed that there were a great number of children in the cemetery. We spoke of how in "the olden days" a doctor was a luxury. Not because of money, necessarily, but because of geography. Old Church, and the area community in which it belongs, are a long way from the nearest town of Durant. So, if a child were to get sick or a mother were to have difficulty during child birth, they wouldn't get to just hop into a car and drive to a doctor's office or a hospital.
The Daughters and I had a great conversation about the everyday things we are given because we live in this time. We have toothpaste and tooth brushes for oral health. We have ibuprofen for fever control. We have phones to call for advice or assistance. We have doctors and nurses who can be reached by car or phone or Internet. It was a great conversation that was made possible by our walk through Old Church Cemetery.
Then, sadly, we came upon the Shumake family. Sadly Eugene and Stella Shumake had seven children. None of them lived to be more than three years old. Now, the part of my brain that enjoys reading true crime stories wondered if Eugene and Stella should be featured on Unsolved Mysteries or America's Most Wanted. I did not share this with The Daughters.
Instead, I asked them about their thoughts.
"Well," began Daughter 1, "It's a sad to think that Stella wasn't able to see her babies become children. She never got to even send them to school."
A lump popped into my throat.
"What do you think happened to all the babies, Momma?" Daughter 2 asked. Always a good momma and teacher, I turned the question on her.
"What do you think happened, honey?"
"Ummm..." Daughter 2 started, squatting down in front of Mildred's, the youngest Shumake, tombstone. She then stood and walked to each Shumake child's marker, carefully studying each of them. The lump in my throat grew bigger as I imagined what was going through her little head. Finally, she stood and walked back over to where Daughter 1 and I were standing under the shade of a tree probably as old as Mildred would be.
"Ummm..." she started again, "I'm thinking maybe they all died of a shark attack."
Maybe some lessons are just too heavy... OR maybe Daughter 2 really doesn't pay attention to me.
