Yesterday, Dad, Cathy, Carly and I visited some relatives at Hilly Grove on Manitoulin Island. After looking at a spot where several Morrisons rest, and where my parents have already chosen to be laid, my sister asked me if I thought I might like to spend all of eternity here. I thought, yes, it seems like a good place for that; then I had a little dance on the spot, just in case.
Early on we visited Angus Morrison and Margaret Jane MacLennan Morrison – parents of my Grandfather, also Angus Morrison.
And then there were Margaret's parents, Jane Glover and George MacLennan.
Jane Glover MacLennan (seated) with daughter Margaret Jane MacLennan Morrison and her granddaughter Elsie Morrison (my father's aunt).
Then to visit my grandmother Violet's parents, William Duxbury and Annie Wilson Duxbury.
And my great, great grandmother, Emma Anne Wilson.
Later we looked at pictures and Dad talked more about the people who came before my daughters and my sisters and me; who are a part of who we are now. I think that maybe the window I look through is in some ways formed by the eyes of these people. We never knew our grandfather Angus or our great grandmother Annie Duxbury, and my father has always wished we had; that they would have appreciated us and we would have benefitted from knowing them.
But sharing stories about them is a way of knowing them. And if it happens that we should spend eternity together at Hilly Grove, I'll go in knowing something about them beforehand.
(Note: My paternal grandparents are not buried here on the Island, but down in Amherstburg, not far from my maternal grandparents.)