Elmwood's angelic, elegiac elements

Erica took me 'taphing yesterday!

Well, she didn't take me -- I drove to the cemetery under my own steam -- but the darling accompanied me and she fetched the car to drive it along the lanes when I strayed too far afield.

The few times I rode shotgun, the Boo was good about proceeding slowly (well, sort of ... she says "slow down" isn't in her vocabulary) on the cold lanes of Elmwood Memorial Park in Columbia when I commanded (or pled), so I could do a little drive-by shooting as inspiration struck.

It was cold! Although the sun was shining fiercely and temperatures were well into the 40s, Boxing Day snow was still laying and many of the monuments were charmingly -- if chillingly -- frosted.

Fortunately I found a grave which more than adequately reflected the ambient conditions.

And I'm certainly glad I was not ill-clothed and ...

How about that? Have you ever personally known a person named Barefoot? There are actually lots of them!

On Find A Grave last night I came across the memorial to a WWII hero named Gillis W. Cornbread. 

That was a first for me too. What if Susie Barefoot had married Gillis Cornbread? She'd have been Susie Barefoot Cornbread.

I can think of worse things than being barefoot in cornbread -- with plenty of molasses -- but being known as Mrs. Cornbread? That had better be true love. But then you could always name the first kid Jalapeno.

Anyway, it was frosty at Elmwood and I had a grave-ilicious time even without cornbread. 

There's actually a story behind this angel. Several years ago the young son of some good friends of ours here in Columbia won an award for a picture he took of this very monument.

I saw the picture and was so impressed by it, I vowed someday I would take a similar picture of that angel and many others like her. 

I'm not sure I even owned a camera then. My first digital camera was given to me in 2005 and this may have been before that. At any rate, I was true to my word. She is majestically, commandingly angelic; don't you agree?

What is she writing?

I even like her feet.

Hello! Barefoot.

Erica is a most blithe little spirit in a cemetery. She never complains but rather engages in her surroundings, if a bit ... blithely.

Look it up.

As always, the shadows captivated me.

And as usual, each stunning detail made me catch my breath.

There are so many children! I try to imagine the grief of their parents at losing them so long ago. I cannot. So I picture these babies on the streets of Heaven, where I believe they are. Safe and sound. No more night; no more pain. No cold snow blanket! Warmth and eternal light.

I'm always looking for crosses because I love the iconic shape and the beautiful way they photograph.

This tombstress incorporates a cross into her repertoire. The way she holds her hand over the top of it reminds me of the Ghost of Christmas Past in A Christmas Carol, come to bring the light of truth to a recalcitrant and grumpy Ebenezer Scrooge.

He changed his tune quickly enough when he looked down on his own grave.

The angels kept getting smaller. The tiny wings of each one seemed to brush right up against my heart.

Even Especially the broken one.

They all wore thin crowns of Christmas snow.

I happened to glance over as Erica drove and my gaze fell on this last one. "Stop!" I said. I clambered over some roughish terrain to reach her.

She was so tiny and brave atop the stone. Her wings were only a few inches long.

 

The sight of her -- of all of them -- was heartrending, but I didn't cry!

Not a single tear.

Instead, I rejoiced that children whose lives were so brief were loved so well. In this heartless world where unborn (and born) children are murdered by the millions, that's saying a great deal.

And I rejoiced that even now, they live. All of them! Every one. Even Especially the ones who are not mourned. The ones who will never even have a grave, much less an angel guarding it.

Make no mistake: He Who could have called ten thousand angels guards them!

Because we are not bodies; we are never-dying souls. We merely have bodies to use. For a while. And our Creator cares what happens to us.

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In other news, on Monday TG and Andrew drove up to Northwest Ohio to see TG's parents. This morning they bundled Grandpa into the truck and sallied forth a good many miles even farther west in Ohio farm country, to a little town called Pettisville.

In Pettisville Union Cemetery repose many of TG's relatives.

This afternoon Andrew sent me a picture of himself posing beside the graves of his great-grandparents. 

Andrew's obviously a namesake! And a very good one.

This next (and last ... for now) picture was taken during the summer of 1990, when Andrew was about sixteen months old. Those are his sassy big sisters arrayed behind him.

(l to r) Andrew, Audrey, Erica, Stephanie

(It's a picture of a picture. Lame, I know, but I don't yet have the ability to scan. Apologies for the poor quality. You can click to make these photos larger.)

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I leave you with a few lines written by the great novelist Kaye Gibbons, author of one of my favorite reads of all time, the oft-imitated-but-never-matched-and-never-to-be-surpassed Ellen Foster.

This is an excerpt from the sequel to that book, The Life All Around Me By Ellen Foster. Among other things, I read this each year during the week after Christmas.

Let it be time to bring every memory inside like wood you place in the fireplace piece by piece, wish by wish. The old need that wasn't met, the wants misunderstood, what you absolutely knew and guessed, what you dreamed or half-invented, saw and heard outright or saw and heard in words you read and adored, what was done to you and calls for revenge you let burn away. Each thing is of the same good use, and burning together, continually, the light the bundle makes belongs to you, your love and work, what you see by, how you're seen.

~ Happy New Year! ~

Comments

[Donna M.]

Oh sweetie, what gorgeous images of the angels! All the better with sepia tone too! I am still squealing with delight, knowing how much you are enjoying this new extension of yourself.

I loved what you said about how we are never-dying souls who merely have a bodies to use. I knew that inherently, but the thought sunk in deep once I arrived at the end of the sentence. ~Thud.~ Suddenly, some troubling things are much clearer now! Thank you, sweetie, for the good timing.

And how exactly is it that dear Andrew has not been tied down and married??? What a gorgeous young man! And with you as his momma, I know the fellow has manners too!

[Audrey]

Fantastic pictures! Love those angels..can't believe there are so many perfect little cherubs so close by to where you live.

The one with the broken wing reminds me of that Martina McBride song..."with a broken wing, she carries her dreams..but you oughta see her fly"....corny I know..but that's what I thought of.. LOL!

[Irene]

What a lovely post, I've been all teary, I can't not cry at these images. Love your Andrew shots. Have a Happy New Year.

[Sue the hobbit]

Hey, careful who you're calling lame. I take photos of photos all the time. Although, Chris just fixed up our computer, so theoretically I can scan now. We'll see.
Love the "then and now" shots.

[Jennifer]

@Donna M. ... glad to've made you ponder and emote! That's always a wonderful thing to hear from a reader. I wish the idea were original with me but alas, it's not. But it is one of which I remind myself often because it does help to put things back into perspective. Regarding Andrew, you are right! He is a sweet and mannerly young man with a knucklehead streak that is endearing in direct proportion to how much his knuckleheadedness upsets your little apple cart! LOLOL he's a keeper and no mistake. And I'm sure it's a matter of time before he's no longer single! Let's get him through college! Meantime, I can't wait to get photoshopping on my angels! *squeal!*

@Audrey ... I thought of that song too! It was in my mind the whole time!

@Irene ... I know how you feel. It is slightly unbearable at times, all these lugubrious images. But to me, cemeteries are much more about life than about death. I can't explain it! The curse of a taphophile.

@Sue ... Oh, girl, I'm not calling you lame! I take pictures of pictures sometimes too. But the way my pic of a pic looks up there is pretty lame. I need a scanner very badly. Hope you've recovered from your disappointment of not seeing Edwin. I'm so sorry it didn't work out.

[Donna (Texas)]

Well, I Love them All! Erica is a Gorgeous Blithe Spirit with Human Tendencies...Hahaa....and Andrew is just simply, gorgeous!
Your photos of the stones are great Miz Jenny!
Happy New Year!!!
hughugs

[Debbie]

That angel is great, look at the detail. The sculpture was a true artist. Great pictures as always. The snow and also the aged and molded condition of some stones adds to the character.

[Angel]

You just keep gettin better Jenny girl!...Angels are my fave..bet ya cant figure out why..LOL...thanks for the lovely comment as always at WHT..you are a doll!