We went to a cemetery to look for an uncle's grave and I went to where there was some Wilkie graves. There on the ground was my grandmothers and ggrandmothers (Martha) grave. Ina's tombstone had fallen but it should have fallen with the inscription face down. But it flipped somehow and fell face up. From there I was hooked. I had just found this poem: Gail Lowery
Your
tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished, marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, In blood, In bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own.
Dear
Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot
And come to visit you.
Author Unknown