My Grandmother Jindra took 'Decoration Day 'very seriously. So seriously that she didn't
observe it once a year, but much more frequently. If a member of the family died, she planted
Roses on the cemetery's fence line adjacent to the Jindra family lots. Bird Creek Cemetery is
nine miles from nowhere, carved out of the side of a wheat field and beside a county owned
Shale pit-all the country roads are shale and everything out there is red. Because of the
location and remoteness of the cemetery my grandmother filled gallon buckets of water and
drove over every evening and watered the roses by hand. Needless to say, there was no running
water there, but there was an outhouse tucked beneath the shade of the few trees. The trees are
still there but the outhouse, well....
My Mother's family didn't fight in the Civil War, in fact the Jindras and Jechs didn't come to
America until after the Civil War. But we haven't missed many since. Grandma saw
Decoration Day as a day to remember family, all family, and she kept it religiously. Several
years before Grandma died she 'passed the torch 'to my mother and Aunt who kept the tradition
alive. As my mother grew older, she asked me to go with her on the Memorial Day journeys-it
was a trap.
My Mother has been gone since 2013, and I have been decorating graves in Okarche,
Kingfisher, Okmulgee, Shawnee, Floral Haven, Skiatook, and Bird Creek for probably 20
years. There are many veterans on the list, and flags are added to their graves, but as many of
the graves as 'humanly 'possible of all the families are marked with at least a flower.
Some of the markers in Okarche are etched in Czechoslovakian (a distant cousin has added an
English interpretation-thank you Jesus). I have heard their stories all my life. The men came
'over 'first, found work, sent for their families, made the Oklahoma Land Run, staked their
claims, created dug out 'homes', gave birth during snowstorms, fought in WW 1, fought the
weather, struggled, fought in WW2, and survived. I actually had one Great Uncle who lived
into his late 70s-early BOs, and never traveled outside of Kingfisher County.
How long will it last? I got no clue. I read a line the other day that went like this, "Nobody is
ever dead until they are forgotten." I'm happy to make the journey because it heips me
remember. I also know that it makes Mom and Grandma happy (and that was never easy).
I know that you don't have to visit a gave to remember. I know that the dead aren't there any
more. But it still serves a purpose. I've been to Israel. I have stood in the garden where it is
believed by some that Jesus was buried. I have stooped down and looked in the empty tomband remembered. My earthly family gave me life. My Heavenly Father, through His Son, Jesus
Christ, gives me eternal life.
There are no cemeteries in Heaven, there is no death nor disease. We will not celebrate what
once was, we will live in the presence of The One Who Is and will forever Be. The tears will
be from worship and joy. We won't lay down flowers, but we will lay down our crowns at the
feet of Jesus every day.

  

                                           May God Bless You, 

                                             Bro. Tom and Sue