On March 1 I went to Valhalla Cemetery in Belleville to retrieve a heart-shaped wreath I had placed on my parents' graves. I wanted to have their graves adorned as long as possible, knowing the complete removal of all flowers would occur the first full week of March. Never in my wildest dreams would I believe the wreath wouldn't be there. Someone stole it.
So, if the thief is reading this column, I hope he thinks about how awful someone feels arriving at her loved one's grave to find it bare. The person responsible is a grave robber as far as I see it. There is no way to find him. There is no punishment I can inflict upon him.
I want him to know that his actions caused someone who was already grieving over the loss of loved ones additional grief. Whatever is laid at graves is not fair game, it is not for a thief to disturb.