To a grave robber
My mother and my Uncle Slone Householder are the two individuals responsible for whatever little bit of good there may be in me. My uncle gave me what I needed to become a responsible, respectable young man. I am not sure I have lived up to the standard he wanted for me, but I have tried. He introduced me to the sport of hunting, showed me how to handle a firearm, hunt responsibility and respect God’s creation.
Every fall my brother and I looked forward to Uncle Slone showing up in his pickup ready to take us squirrel hunting. He often joked that he had killed enough squirrels to fill the bed of that pickup. His love for squirrel hunting influenced where he wanted to be buried. He was laid to rest in 1979 on the hill at the Woodrow Cemetery, just outside of Paw Paw. He said, “I want to be on that hill so I can hear the squirrels bark.”
My sister-in-law recently purchased two squirrel figurines and gave them to my Aunt Ruth Householder who is now 86 years of age. She placed them on my uncle’s grave just after Memorial Day, thinking he would have thought this gesture to be hilarious. They have since disappeared from his grave.
What a disgrace to his memory. Isn’t anything sacred any more? Something that brought so much joy to my aunt’s memory of her husband has now brought her sadness because someone thought they would look nice in their yard, porch or wherever.
I would say to the individual(s) who removed these ceramic figurines from my uncle’s grave, I hope you are receiving as much joy as my aunt received from placing them there. When your neighbors or friends ask you where you found them, I pray your response will be an honest one. Also, should your guilt get the best of you, I would hope that you would return them to my uncle’s grave.
Lock Haven, Pa.