By Joe Mazzella
For over 30 years now I have lived right next to a graveyard. I am not complaining, though. Not once in all of these years have my neighbors played loud music or got into an argument or complained when I walk my dogs near their fence. They don’t even mind when deer graze among their gravestones. And they always help to remind me how brief and precious life here is.
Sometimes in the morning while I am watching the rising sun coming over the horizon I look at the graveyard and remember all the people I have lost in my own life. I remember stacking wood with my Dad to keep us warm for the long winter to come. When I would glance at him watching me I could see the kindness in his eyes. It always warmed my heart seeing it. I remember sitting on the porch with my Mom watching the cardinals fly down to eat at her bird feeder. She always had such a look of peace and joy on her face as she watched them. I remember Nana standing over her pot of slow cooking tomato sauce, dropping in just a bit more parsley or garlic, and giving it a taste. She always got it just right and she was so happy when we devoured her Sunday dinners. All three of them touched my life in ways mere words can never express. They were so good and so kind. They made the world a better place just by being in it. They taught me how to live and how to love. And I still miss them every single day.
Robert Frost once wrote: “In three words, I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” That is true. But how it goes on depends largely on us. Is it going to go on in fear or in love? Is it going to go on in anger or in forgiveness? Is it going to go on in misery and despair or in kindness and joy? The choice is ours. I just thank God each day that I had three wonderful teachers in Dad, Mom, and Nana. They showed me who we are is more important than what we have. And they showed me that a life lived in love is the richest life of all.
