I am the youngest of my three siblings; I have a sister and two brothers. My husband, Tom, grew up the middle child with an older brother and a younger sister. All of our parents were deceased by the time we were in our mid-30’s and raising our own children.

My husband’s brother, Ted, died last November. Tom and Ted had an up and down relationship over the years but had come to a good place together last year. They got together for dinner on Wednesdays and had become good friends.

Yesterday, Tom and I drove 350 plus miles to a small community, Blooming Grove, near Williamsport, Pennsylvania to bury Ted’s ashes. Tom’s sister flew in from Arizona and several of their cousins who live in New England joined us. Why Blooming Grove? This is where seven generations of Schade’s are buried. It is a small community of Dunkard Baptists who first immigrated from Germany in the early 1800’s. A place in the Schade family history I’d only heard stories about until this trip.

Several of those generations are on our family photo wall. It is a work in process. Tom continues to add pictures from both of our families as we go through old boxes of photos. Our oldest granddaughter is five. She loves the movie Coco and understands it is about honoring and remembering your ancestors. When she visits, we often review the family photo wall and explain who everyone is.  

When you lose a loved one, the graveside service is that final closure. My husband, a retired Unitarian Universalist minister, conducted the short ceremony. From Tom’s opening words:

This spot is special to us, this old cemetery on a hillside in Pennsylvania. Here are the earthly remains of some of our people, traced back through our paternal grandmother. We are descended from these hills, from all the people whose memorial stones surround us, from these people who came to farm this land and worship God in freedom.

And from the Grass Harp, by Robert Hugh Orr

They are not dead who live in hearts they leave behind. In those whom they have blessed they live a life again.

When I work with people as an executive coach, one of the first things I ask them to do is to write their bio. I don’t mean the professional bio they should have already. I mean your story – what makes you who you are. It’s a few pages telling your story starting at the beginning.

One of the ways I help people understand what I’m looking for is to share an example from my own story.  The fact that my father died when I was just 4 years old shaped my growing up. This reality and how my mother raised the four of us on her own has a lot to do with my work ethic, my focus on social justice, and how I relate to people. I ask the people I am coaching to find a quiet block of time to reflect and write their story, then share it with me as I get to know and understand them.

I’ve talked about my “big rocks” in previous posts. As you spend time with your family and friends this summer, don’t forget who your big rocks are or where you came from. We all have a story.

Related Post:

Do you know your big rocks?