Light, Love, Light...and Giraffes
Apr 28, 2026
I've been visiting my grandmother and grandfather in this cemetery and putting flowers on their graves since my children were young.
Lilacs in the spring and poinsettias at Christmas.
There was a special connection with Grandma GG. Every spring I used to send her lilacs overnight in the mail to where she lived in Arizona. I even accidentally sent her a bee one time that she let fly around her home until it died on the window sill. She said it was a reminder of the people that loved her so much in the state that held her for so long with the flowers that were her favorites of all time.
The poinsettias at Christmas were for for Grandpa Ray. He had a December birthday just like me, and one year when we went to see the Christmas lights at Temple Square in Salt Lake, we had gotten some poinsettias to take to his grave on the way to see the lights. It happened to be his birthday that very day. It was so meaningful, we decided to couple those two traditions together every year. One year while visiting we got to experience the annual Christmas luminaria display. It was magical and anchored in my soul my belief that these spirits are still real people, as real as the candle lights spread across the entire cemetery. I believe with my whole soul that those that have gone before us still have something to give...a light, a message, support, encouragement, and occasionally insight for our life journey.
So, today when I visited my grandmother's grave feeling heavy and weary and full of aches in my body, I snapped a branch off one of the tall Italian cypress trees near the grave. Living energy that I wanted to touch and smell and hold close. I suddenly felt the words come into my mind: light, love, life.
Light, love, life.
Light, love, life.... and giraffes.
Giraffes?
Yes, giraffes. Last time I was here in this very alcove of cypress trees over near my grandma's grave, I walked hand in hand with my little granddaughter Daisy. She was only two and had no idea what we were doing extending this tradition on to the next generation. It was the first time I had brought grandchildren here, and Daisy had no comprehension of where we were. She had just been told we were going to the zoo, our next destination. She seemed to feel certain that if we were getting out of the car, this must be where the giraffes were. And so, after placing the flowers on the grave and taking some pictures of her with her parents and baby brothers, she had taken my hand and said, "Meemaw, come help me." I dutifully followed, but it took me a moment to realize she was calling out, "Giraffes, where are you?" She was looking in the cemetery for the giraffes she was confident were waiting to greet her.
Oh dear Daisy! I will remember that with joy every time I visit this cemetery. This isn't where we find giraffes, but it is where we find light, love, and life.
Life in the cemetery? That's a peculiar hope. And yet, so much of the resourcing I feel right now in the healing work I'm doing comes from my ancestors. I've only been visiting in the state of Utah for three days, and this is the third cemetery I've visited. It's so important for me to visit those who still have blood running through their veins and it's just important to me to visit my ancestors--my ancestral grandmothers in particular--whose blood runs in my veins. Grandma Polly, Grandma Susan, Grandma Mary, and Grandma GG. All of them are a specific part of my ancestral team. I am them. They are me.
Light, love, life.
Question to ponder: Who is on your ancestral team? How can you connect with their stories and their lives? How can you invite them to be more present in your life? What would you ask them? What wisdom might they want to share with you?
