09/19/2025
Many years ago my uncle passed away. I lived in SC and came back home for his funeral. I had loved him all my life, a child in an adult’s body. He could not read or write but he worked as hard as anyone I ever knew…in the garden, carrying water up a hill, digging ditches, working in a coal mine.
My brother drove me to the family cemetery where one man was deep in the red clay/dirt digging in the hot Kentucky sun, sweat dripping from his body. I moved back a bit as the dust settled on my expensive shoes. I was shocked that this particular man was digging the grave. He owned coal mines and had money. Why was he now digging graves?
When he came up for air and a drink of water, I said “I didn’t know you were now digging graves!” I might add here that I sometimes say things that I shouldn’t! The older man wiped his brow with a rag crusted with sweat and dirt, proving that he had been working for hours. He gave me a look of disgust! “Lady you see this sweat? It ain’t sweat at all. It’s tears…tears for my friend. I won’t be at his funeral tomorrow. I’m doing my crying today… my last act of friendship to him. I ain’t no grave digger, lady! I’m just a friend!” With those words he wiped his face again and took a big drink of water. I walked away, humbled as tears rolled down my cheeks.
I’ve never dug a grave and I surely have never been so gracefully put in my place. These old mountain people had a way with words that often put me in my place and made me remember where I came from! Have a lovely day!
