In my family, we leave pennies on the graves of friends and relatives when visiting their burial sites. And although there are apparently zillions of pennies lying around unused in the US, it can be very difficult to find one when you don’t stock up, first.
Only last week, at the site of my parents’, grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ headstones, do you think I could find one solitary penny to leave for them?
First, we planted geraniums from my sister-in-law, and then the search for pennies was on. In the old days, there might have been some in the car’s unused ash tray, but our current model doesn’t have one of those. The bottom of my purse was another good bet. No, only crumpled receipts and half used tubes of lip balm, there.
Trying not to look too ridiculous, as other visitors filed by in respectful silence along the gently curving path, we pushed the car seats way back, lay on the ground and reached underneath as far as we could. Nothing. Of value, anyway. I began to imagine my ghostly ancestors all watching us, tapping their toes and wondering, “Didn’t she bring us pennies?”
With their spectral neighbors in repose muttering to each other, “I’m thinking not.”
My husband, whose family does not follow this tradition but who is sympathetic, had a good suggestion: “Maybe we can reuse some of the pennies we’ve left before?” It was tempting; there were bound to be some that had fallen off to the side.
Deciding that we would be silly to go rooting around like grave robbers, I said that planting flowers for my ancestors would have to do for today.
Though I may suggest to the administrator that a change machine be installed somewhere on the property.
About Penny Nolte
Penny Nolte, from Montpelier, Vermont, is an author, artist, and educator creating gentle, quirky narratives of family and place. After a decades-long break from storytelling, her new work is beginning to appear in literary magazines including PoemCity: 2025 and Fireflies’ Light.
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