PapPa’s Grave is Grown Over

I don’t make it out to Tennessee every year, but when I do, I try to make it out to Tazewell to the McDowell Family Farm to visit the grave of my PapPa Mac (Clyde). PapPa is buried in the field with the cows down by the Powell River. One year, one of the cousins fenced off the area so the cows wouldn’t stand on his footstone.

We’ve done it so many times since he died, always having a drink at his grave side so we can tell him we didn’t forget him when we see him again. We used to have to drive to Virginia to buy the cheap beer, as Claiborne was a ‘dry county’ for many years. This year, we went old school and stopped at a gas station after lunch in Cumberland Gap, paying just $1.17 for a Busch Light to keep the tradition alive.

When we arrived this year, we were surprised to see PapPa’s grave had completely grown over with a Walnut tree, a wild rose, and various shrubs and plants. I had mixed feelings. At first, I wanted the grave to be the way it always was, PapPa’s stone next to the dog Sam’s stone, in the soft green grass. But then I thought, a little of this DNA in the soil was probably now part of a leaf basking in the sun. Somehow, that felt good. And it won’t change the tradition of me having that drink with my family to remember him. That’s the important part, that we don’t forget about the people we love, even when they are gone.

However, the fence no longer makes sense. I’ll have to go find my PapPa under the Maple Tree.