The next morning, I returned to the cemetery.

It was what I would expect a cemetery of a small village to look like.

Near the front of the cemetery were well kept graves, obviously holding the more recently deceased from the village, but as you went deeper into the cemetery and more toward the north end, the graves were obviously much older.

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Many of the wooden headstones, were faded and broken and some graves, showed no signs at all, as to who might be buried there.

The graves were overgrown with long grasses, dried and brown from the winter and many others had brush growing through them and even a scattered birch or fir tree could be seen, growing besides a grave.

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I felt a sadness, as I walked through the cemetery.

"All these forgotten people," I said aloud.

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"Dat dey be."

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I jumped, at the sound of the voice.

I turned to see Franklin standing a few feet from me.

"Shit, you scared me."

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He laughed.

"Well, Will, me son. Youse is in a graveyard."

He looked toward my feet.

"And youse is standing' right top be me."

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I stepped back.

"Sorry."

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He laughed.

"Dat be okay, me son. No 'arm done."

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"Was it you I saw last night?"

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He nodded, puffing on his pipe.

"Yes, boy, it be me."

He pointed to a faded wooden marker, just to my left.

"Dat be who you be lookin' fer."

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I walked to the marker and cleared away some brush. I could barely make out the word, 'Dove'.

I looked at Franklin.

"This is Calvin and Alice."

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He nodded.

"It be dey. Nobody ever looked after da graves, me son. Dey really 'ad no family left."

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I looked back at the graves. You would barely be able to recognize the fact that it was indeed a grave.

"It is sad."

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"It be da way it be, Will. Peoples die and dey be forgotten'.

Dat's life."

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I looked around the cemetery.

"So much history here, that no one knows."

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Franklin laughed.

"Yes boy. Ifin only da dead could talk, eh Will."

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I stared at him.

"Was that a joke?"

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"I sees youse has no sense of da humour, Will."

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I smiled, shaking my head.

"I have to do something."

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Franklin simply nodded.

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"Thank you Franklin."

I started walking back to the road.

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"Youse be welcome, Will, me son."

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I turned, but he was already gone.

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I got in my Rav4 and drove to the tiny church, in the village.

As I got out of my car and started for the church, I heard a voice to my left.

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"Can I help you?"

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I turned to see a man coming toward me.

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"I was looking for the minister of the church."

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The man offered me his hand, smiling.

"I am Captain Parsons. I am the minister."

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"Sorry. I am not one for religion much."

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He nodded.

"You must be Will. You live in the house at the south end of the village."

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I nodded.

"That is me."

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"So. How may I help you, Will?"

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"I was wondering if you have the death records for those buried in the cemetery?"

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He shook his head.

"The original church burned in the 1960s. Unfortunately, most of the records burned with it. We only have what would have transpired since, I believe, 1969, when the church was rebuilt."

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I nodded and took a deep breath.

"I see."

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"Why would you be interested in the old records, anyway, Will. You are not from here, right?"

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I shook my head.

"No. I'm not. Its just that my property has a connection to one of the families buried there."

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"The Doves," he responded, quickly.

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I nodded.

"I want to give them a proper headstone and such. Maybe even clean up the older section of the cemetery and restore the headstones that we can. Maybe even replace them with new ones and such."

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"That is a fine gesture, Will. But I have to ask, why you would want to do such a thing?"

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I shook my head.

"I don't know Captain Parsons. Just seems like the thing to do."

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He put his hand on my shoulder.

"Well, I will help in any way I can Will. Just let me know what you need."

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"Well, first things first I guess. Find some guys on pogey and pay them under the table, to clean up the cemetery."

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The Captain laughed.

"That should not be a problem, Will. And I will be glad to chip in as well."

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Most of the month of May was spent cleaning up the old section of the cemetery and collecting as much information as we could about those buried there.

Unfortunately, we did not have records, even at provincial government levels, but fortunately, we did have the memories of some of the older residents of Maynard's Rock, who were more than happy to help us in anyway they could.

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We cleaned up all the old grass and brush and even cut down any trees, growing directly on the graves.

We cleaned up all the grave sites and even erected small fences around each family plot. As soon as the weather permitted, I planned to have all new sod laid around the cemetery and we even replaced the old fence that surrounded the property.

A new gate was erected at the entrance, with the village name on the overhead arbour.

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For all the graves that we could get names for, I ordered new granite headstones. They were basic, simple, headstones, but at least they would survive for many years to come.

For the graves that could not be names, I ordered simple white granite crosses that simply said ...

'Rest in Peace'.

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For the Dove family, I had a special headstone made with the names of not only Calvin and Alice, but also Jennifer Nicole. On top of the headstone was a small angel. It was larger than the other headstones, but it was my need to do something special for them, that drove me, so I decided that was the least I could do.

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When we finally finished all the work, it was already June, so we were able to have the sod laid.

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The cemetery looked beautiful. At least as beautiful as a cemetery could.

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The Sunday after we finished all the work, there was a special service in the time church. Every person in the village attended, including me.

It was the first time in my adult life that I freely attended church. I did not plan to make it a regular occurrence, but in this case, I felt the need to do so.

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After the service, the entire congregation walked the 1500 feet or so, to the graveyard and there was another service, to bless the new cemetery and remind all that remembering the past and those who went before us, was as important as living in the present.

It was a beautiful service.

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Afterwards, the entire village went to the local pub, including the Captain and his wife.

I had brought in a catered meal for everyone, as my way of thanking them all for their help. And of course, there was a drink or two shared, as well.

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It was after the caterers had left, that John called me to his table, where he was sitting with several other men.