I always feel sad when I see these old unmarked graves. When the last person who ever saw these people passes on, there will be no sign or trace that they ever existed. other than a name on a crumbling piece of paper in the parish records.
Maybe an ancient faded sepia photograph in a shoe box in someone's loft, of a distant relative who nobody remembers and nobody even knows their name. Maybe a hint of a family resemblance.
Nothing to show the life full of sadness and joy, love and passion, trials and tribulations they may have led. These people are in our DNA but we know nothing of them.
