I'm moving back to Ontario this week. One thing I especially want to do is visit the grave where my Grandparents are buried. It's been a long time since I was able to say hello, buy them a Tim Hortons coffee and tell them what's going on in my life.

How would it have been for the pioneers who put their family in a small cemetery right on their farm land. Back in those days it may have been comforting to know you had some family not far away, not across an ocean or a country.

You can still see those old limestone cemeteries, some still have the traditional fence and pine trees. I assume the current family living and farming there are related to those buried there. But, I guess it's not necessarily so. People move in all sorts of ways and directions.

Not so different from flowers that start by their own roots or seeds each season. They only have a short time to be around, enjoy the sun and rain and leave the Earth with fresh air to breathe. They grow, flower, go to seed and then fade away to decompose under the snow. A lot of changes in just a short time.

I guess that's what I'm doing too, going back to check with my roots. I want them to know that I'm doing ok, not wasting the life they had a part in giving me and I haven't forgotten to miss them.