Sarah Nigbor

Whenever I see red geraniums, I think of Memorial Day and my grandparents.

When I was a little girl, I accompanied my grandparents on their Memorial weekend rounds. My grandma took the duty very seriously. She and my grandpa visited the graves of their parents and grandparents and decorated each one with a pot of beautiful red geraniums. Then, after Memorial Day, they’d go collect them.

When I was little, the significance of what we were doing didn’t sink in. I just enjoyed spending time with my grandparents and I’ve always been a sucker for a car ride. To this day, I love going on rides. I’d count the silos as Pierce County farms passed by. I’d listen to my grandparents talk about this old neighbor and that, who lived here and there, what used to be there that no longer was. I didn’t realize it, but they were instilling a love of history, especially family history, in me. And if I was lucky, they’d stop at the trout pond in Plum City so I could have a looksee.

We’d go to the cemetery in Plum City, to decorate the grave of Grandpa’s parents, Herman and Esther Lundgren. I always thought I remembered Great-Grandma Esther, though I was 2 when she died. I hear she was a feisty lady who liked Johnny Cash and carried a ball peen hammer in her purse “for protection.” I have one of her aprons, and my daughter likes to wear it when she bakes.

Another stop was the cemetery in Lund where Grandpa’s uncles Philip Carlson and Reuben Carlson were laid to rest, along with his grandmother Carolina Hedberg Lundgren and many other relatives. I didn’t know my great-great grandmother’s name was Carolina when I named my own daughter Carolina. I just knew I loved the name and had always had it in my head. Maybe I remembered it from those long ago trips to Lund.

Grandma’s parents’ grave, located at Gilman Lutheran Church cemetery, always received a geranium as well. Their names were Melvin and Clara Larson. I liked this stop because Grandma would talk about her wedding day to Grandpa at that very church. The photo on her dresser, showing her in a long ivory gown with an enormous bouquet of red roses, would come to life through her words. It was nearly unheard of for a Norwegian to marry a Swede back then.

The Martell Lutheran cemetery always seemed a little lonely to me. It sits upon a small rise, surrounded by fields where the wind whispers incessantly. Grandma’s grandparents Annie and Chris Larson are buried there with their daughter Nora. Grandma said her auntie Nora couldn’t walk (I can’t remember why) and her dad carried her into the house whenever they came for a visit. They originally hailed from the Oconomowoc area.

Lastly, we’d stop at Rush River Lutheran cemetery, where Grandma’s other grandparents, Torkel and Inger Larson rest, along with their son William. I remember seeing a photo of her grandpa Torkel when I was little and being terrified of it. He had a long bushy beard and a cane. People didn’t smile for photos in those days, so he looked especially taciturn. I’m sure he was a nice man, but no one looked particularly friendly in those photos.

Now that Grandma and Grandpa are gone, a stop at their grave in Greenwood Cemetery has been added to the list. My Aunt Kay promised my grandma she’d keep up the tradition of decorating the graves. When the time comes, I would like to carry on the tradition as well.