I love old cemeteries with shady magnolia trees and iron fences. Days like today - breezy and only about 80 degrees - are the best days to get out and wander down the aisles and paths. The dogwoods have long bloomed out, but their graceful limbs wave in the breeze, fanning those in need of respite from the heat. Robins perch atop gravestones, ornaments in themselves. Brown thrashers, camoflauged against the dark tree trunks, pick through the underbrush. A patch of Queen Anne's lace and the remnant of an old rose pop up here and about.
The older cemeteries truly are parks, and they are welcoming. Their aged beauty embraces, asks you to stay a while ~ much as you would stop before a piece of sculpture or an eye-catching painting in a museum. Art and poetry, sculpture and stained glass, even music I have heard in cemeteries. There are several locals that take to the quiet park settings to read and sketch and to play their music. I have walked and could see no one, but could hear the strains of a flute.
As a youngster, Saturdays usually included a stop at the cemeteries to tidy up the lots, replace greens and flowers and scrub the stones. It was also a time for me to let my imagination go - I would visit lots other than my family's (they were not very interesting). I walked up the stone steps and through the fence as though expected. I sat upon stones to chat with the small angels, leaving them with a handful of buttercups. I would look for my name (first name) on stones, and read other names, deciding if I would rather be named Edith or Emily or Virginia. I like Margaret the best, thank you Mama and Daddy.
On a recent visit to our newest cemetery (1902), I noticed how it had grown up, how it, too, was beginning to acquire that aged beauty. Oddly, that provided a sense of peace for me.
My family has been a powerhouse of women, women who remember, women who hand down the stories, women who protect the family history, women who retain the duty and honor of visiting the cemeteries. Memorial Day is not osberved only on May 30.
Friday, May 27, 2011
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