Imagine as a child looking at your Grandparents old photo albums and wondering who all those unfamiliar faces were. The weathered pages and old photos had begun to fade and some of the corner frame holders were missing. It didn't matter thou because the memories were still clear to the older ones.
That's how I feel when I am sitting on those old weathered pews under the pavilion and gaze below to the graves of our ancestry's. For years and many generations, our ancestors and our family's still , meet on the first Saturday in May at Trevillion Cemetery located in Blue Hill, Mississippi. It's a quite place off the country road, where you have to drive through large Oaks with hanging moss on a path just wide enough for your vehicles to go down. Then you suddenly come to a clearing, park, and walk past the Magnolia trees and down to the bottom of the hill. There, you see the graves of those that walked this same graveyard before us.
The pages and the faces from those album pages are still vivid in my mind as I visit with family and walk among our Great Great Grandparents, Uncles, and Aunts.
Hazel Beesley on June 16, 2014
Marie Trevillion on July 16, 2014
Ronnie O'Quinn on August 8, 2014
Jeri Ann Smith on October 11, 2014
Announcements were made and a yearly business report was given by Johnnie Harold Smith, secretary treasurer and ground keeper of the Trevillion Cemetery. Special music was sung by Jim Smith, Seth McCaskill, and Sandra Brown. While they were singing I walked around the group of people and snapped new photos. I wondered if the next generation of gatherings will look at our weathered old picture books one day and remember being part of this time spent in the woods of Mississippi where there's no traffic lights or cell phones. Where, you can still hear the birds singing, feel the wind blowing a light breeze, and smell the sweet smell of honey suckle, white magnolias, and fresh cut grass. Where, if you shut your eyes you can picture the faces of those loved ones that came here to clean the grounds, fellowship, and share a meal, but now sleep among the graves and wait for the next gathering we will share in heaven one day.
After the songs were sung, a message was given by Burt Brown, and then dinner on the grounds was shared by everyone. This year, I was able to share the gathering with my older brother and his wife, Roy and Renea and my sister, Margie.
New memory's made for another generation to share one day...New photos to add to the old family album....
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