Even the best of us go to
ground. As Vaughn Monroe did, much too early. Here his last resting
place is. His tombstone weathered by time. Yet here he does rest for all
time. Into the future for unknown years. Until finally in the future his
memory may fade forever. As those funeral monuments for our soldiers
have done.
If you walk the cemeteries
of ancient lineage, you will see the faded names and dated remembrance
of those now known to few, if any. And yet they did live, love and leave
and rest their remains just below, near, yet far, yet ghostly reminders
of our own date with that fate all too soon to come. Is that all there
is to it? Born, live and die? No one knows, but we all hope that this is
not all there is to life.
Vaughn Monroe is here,
just below, near, within six feet, resting and waiting. Died so long
ago. In 1973, so long ago. Thirty-six years ago. Look again at the name
on the stone, faded, yet still distinct, like our memories of him. Find
his songs and listen. He was great. We all remember him who knew his
artistry, his songs, and him. We miss him still.
We DO have
HOPE --the very hope of Easter and the risen Christ--the first to be
raised of those who have fallen asleep. (I Cor. 15:20)
Commentary by: Claire Schwartz
