Finally! Craig and I made it to the Honeywell graves near Leoti, Kansas.
The last time we tried to visit, the roads (which are unpaved) were a muddy mess and a heavy rain was falling. There was a little mud this time, but the roads were mostly dry and so we were able to make it all the way to the cemetery.
The grave was easy to find as it was near the entrance and is one of the first you see.
Such a lonely pillar, way out in the middle of nowhere. It marks the grave of my great-grandfather, Frederick Robert Honeywell, who homesteaded this area of Kansas.
His headstone faces into the prevailing wind and is weathering and becoming hard to read. This is the top portion.
The middle section.
And the bottom.
An infant son is buried with his father. The baby was never named, and apparently was born and died on the same day, October 13, 1900.
It feels a little less lonely knowing that the two are together in this isolated prairie cemetery.
Because it is not facing the prevailing winds, the baby's information is not nearly as worn as the words on my great grandfather's side.
I found myself emotional at being in their "presence."
I laid an iris blossom at the base of each grave
as a token of my love and respect for them along with the hope that I will meet them in the next life.
After visiting the graves, Craig and I drove back down the lane to visit the Carwood Church.
It was the church that my great grandparents attended, and used to be a large white clapboard building.
I don't know when it was replaced with the new building - the 1960s, maybe?
Seeing as it's Kansas, there was an underground tornado shelter behind the church.
Visiting the Carwood Cemetery and Church took us about three extra hours in time, but it was most definitely worth it. While I don't have a bucket list, coming here and paying my respects was something I really wanted to do.
And now I have.
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