It was a dark and rainy night—again. Christmas week in our area this past year was wet and gray. Despite the soggy skies and ground, we didn’t want to miss seeing a beautiful seasonal light display. So, our son, his family, and my husband and I grabbed umbrellas and drove to the local ski resort. On the way home, our grandson made an astonishing revelation.

I mentioned to the boys, ages four and eight, that my parents, their great-grandparents, were buried in the cemetery we were approaching. Immediately, the eight-year-old (8yo) excitedly exclaimed, “We should go there and look for recipes sometime!” Because we are a most articulate family, the three adults within earshot responded, “What??!”

First, let me introduce you to the 8yo. I once heard a children’s book reviewer say a book was perfect for “Well Actually” children. I laughed out loud because I needed no definition. You probably don’t either if you are acquainted with such a child. For the uninitiated, a “Well Actually” child thrives on facts and will challenge anyone with a differing view, usually beginning with the statement, “Well, actually….” That beautifully describes our grandson.

With this incredible statement hanging in the air, we pushed for more details. “What are you talking about?” Summoning all the confidence and vast worldly experience of an eight-year-old, he announced that people put recipes on their headstones. So, he wanted to explore the cemetery where my parents were quietly resting without any kitchen duties posted for posterity on their grave markers. What??! Could that astonishing revelation be true?

Our son, who knows his son well, informed me that he has learned to request the source of his offspring’s profound statements. And so, he did, and his child quoted chapter and verse—well, sort of. He said he read it in 2024 Ripley’s Believe It or Not, which just happens to reside on our bookshelf. Of course we have it because we have a Well Actually child!

When we arrived home, the 8yo pulled the book off the shelf and quickly produced proof for his astonishing revelation. A woman had discovered recipes for goodies engraved on headstones in the U.S. They were mainly women’s graves, and most of the recipes were sweet rather than savoury. This enterprising explorer travelled across the U.S. to locate and try the recipes people had taken to their graves. Who knew it was a thing? What if there was a measurement error or the engraver had a perverse sense of humour? I have no clue if chiselling recipes in stone is an obscure American cultural practice or if some are hiding in cemeteries across Canada.

Having been enlightened, I’m all in to embark on a seek-and-find mission with the 8yo (and any other family members who want to join us). When the snow melts, we can scour our local cemetery, searching for unburied treasure. After that, I can envision dragging my long-suffering husband from graveyard to graveyard as we skip across the country on a bizarre adventure. Knowing the power of intermittent positive reinforcement, all it would take is finding one, and the game would be on!

When we reached home that evening, our daughter-in-law whispered, “That’s your next story, isn’t it?” Oh, yes! You don’t pass up gold like that!

 If you find one of these delights in a cemetery, not copied from the internet, please share it with us!