Grave Maintenance For Granny Maria And Aunt Lucy

Maria and Lucy

I Contacted the local stonemason this morning and decided to have the grave of my great grandmother Maria and Aunt Lucy done up for the first time since 1952 when it was first erected. Not that it means much to them it’s more or less for me as I was tired of visiting and having to look at this faded gravestone you couldn’t even read anymore.

Even the chippings in it were the original ones and there was Moss and weeds growing all over it. After some negotiating and discussion with the local mason, I had him fix the inscription and go deeper to protect it from the weather with a certain type of seal placed over it.

Basically it’s a whole new inscription is to be chiseled into it. The grave will be washed clean as well as the surrounding concrete. Instead of chippings, I decided I’d go with artificial grass instead. This will prevent any unsightly weeds and moss from growing.

I owe it to them as if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t even be standing at their grave. I owe my existence to Maria especially. Poor Lucy died when she was only 13 years old. When I read the doctors notes on the death certificate recently I was almost sick.

The poor girls body was completely mangled and contorted she must have been hit so bad. The doctor said her death was instant which in a way offers some relief that she didn’t suffer too much.

Lucy was adopted by my grandfather when he came home from the second world war. She was originally the daughter to a woman one of my great uncles had a fling with. My great grandmother came in to the hospital when the baby was born.

The mother was mentally unwell and had lost her mind it was very sad. She was caught trying to stab the baby Lucy with a knitting needle by my great grandmother who saved her just in the nick of time. Sadly I only know the surname of the mother but could not find her.

It was so sad back in those days that if you had a child out of Wedlock you were considered dirty and an outcast. This very severe theological outlook that was embedded into Catholic society and the Church at the time. I’m so glad that kind of horrible attitude is gone.

Unfortunately, Lucy never had a good start in life and would later pass away at the tender age of 13. I’ve been on those train tracks myself as a kid when I visited my granny Mary even played at the spot Lucy got hit. When I think about it now, it was quite dangerous to be up there.

Maybe she was watching over me making sure I didn’t make the same mistake which would partially explain my existence today. Every time I drive under the bridge of the tracks I think about her.

I was saving my money for a rainy day, but you know there are some things more important than pleasure, right? Especially if they’re family. I’ll eat my beans on toast this month with the comfort of knowing the important things have been taken care of.

Rest In Peace Maria and Lucy, and if it be Gods Will such a sinful soul like mine be saved, may we meet again one day in paradise.

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