Today, as you can see, the cemetary has been refurbished and expanded.
It would take Sister quite a while to calm us back down. Once calm, she would have us pray for the souls in those graves and their families. She would always try to use the opportunity to explain to us the value of life, how it could end in the blink of an eye, and why we should strive to live a good life so we can leave this earth without regrets. I remember the pious expressions on all of our faces as we listened to her speak. Quietly contemplating her words of wisdom.
What we were actually doing was waiting for the bell to ring so we could run around to the old cemetary and dare each other to get closer and take a peak inside the open coffins. Death wasn't really scary to us back then (as in the realization of our own mortality), it was spooky (as in ghosts and zombies). Few of us had even experienced the loss of a loved one yet.
Today, as I reflect back on what the Sister was telling us, I get it. I have lost people I love dearly and I can feel my mortality more and more each year. Even though I would guess my dare-devil side has had to take a back seat with this revelation, I also find I enjoy the small moments now as much as I do the big ones, maybe even more.
Young people tend to see each day as endless and death as just a rumor at the end of a very long road.
I find that I both envy and pity them for this.