28 May 2012
One of my little eccentricities is to tend a part of our village churchyard. I probably shouldn't of admitted to that, but I do and I guess I do it, part out of guilt for not attending my brothers grave and part out of public spiritedness.
But excuses aside it is one of the most peaceful places I know in the dead centre of our village; old ones always the best eh?
But seriously tending the graves always gets me wondering what type of life the long forgotten lived.
For instance one of the graves is the resting place of a Tommy Eagle and whenever I get to his headstone his name always brings back memories of childhood. The name could have been taken straight out of the commando comic, I was always given by my grandfather. He was a bit of a character and used to buy these for his own entertainment and as i found out much later, to pinch the storyline. He would then recite a version of it to me who would always be wide eyed and agog at his wartime escapades. He would also show me his RAOB (royal antediluvian order of buffaloes) medals and pass them off as bravery medals.
It was only later I learned he only ever got to be a member of the home guard due to his flat feet and age!
It's funny how tending a grave of somebody you never knew brings back such cherished childhood memories, or is that just my eccentricity in middle age?
One day I will log all the names of those I tend and write something for them in the honour of a memory I never had of them.
Eccentric Ramblings Of A Middle Aged Man • Opuss № I