It was fairly warm at -7°C, and sunny, I pulled into the parking lot, I was the only one there. I walked around. The sun was reflecting off the hoarfrost and everything was glittering. I started, it seems, with the newest graves, I wandered around, looking around, wondering what stories were hidden behind the head-stones.
I found one cross, the dates showing she was 24. On it was a piece of paper, obviously something done in class for mother's day, it said "Thank you mom for loving me and caring me. I wish you were here with me. Please take me up to heaven", I wonder how that little child is doing.
I continued on, past the graves of veterans, and found the older graves. These were unkept, buried under the snow, nearly impossible to spot. I wonder how many I accidentally stepped on. Many of them simply wooden crosses that were slowly falling apart. Those that had proper headstones were hard to read, though none were particularly old. Mostly from the 1960s and 70s. This town is young, founded in 1957.
I found one headstone that claimed that the man was the last permanent resident of Moak Lake. Apparently there are people living there now, I wonder what the story is...
I continued on and found the graves of several children all lined up beside each other. Some had died at a few days, some a few months, some a few years, so many stories hidden, I wonder where I could find them.
My hands were cold, and I couldn't feel my toes anymore, so I returned to the car.
