About a ten minute walk from our apartment is an old, large cemetery. H-Town dates to the early- to mid-1700s and it is a fun place to walk. The names are always interesting (Gertrudes and Hatties and Asas and not a few Adolphs).
The oldest tombstones are impossible to read. I like the image of fading, that even names are worn away as the rock weathers.
I was also a bit surprised by the change in tombs over the last ten years. There were many hearts, etched guitars, cars, and cats, and even images of people. There was good and bad poetry, the King James mixed together with Chicken Soup for the Soul. Where the older markers just say "infant," new markers record the loss of a child on the day of his birth. This tomb is from such an infant, who was born a few days after Christmas last year. I told Sam that things worked out for him pretty well, all things considered.
It was very strange to walk with Sam through the cemetery. I was struck by how alive everything is. There were a fair number of critters: groundhogs, rabbits, squirrels, and deer. In a lot of ways, a cemetery is just a park. People jog and walk their dogs there. It's not entirely a strange place to bring a baby. Our baby mostly slept through the walk, or looked at trees and plants and the grass. Here he is heading towards a doze.
Emily took this picture of father and son. It was interesting to see things through her eyes. I realized I haven't been in a cemetery since I visited one in Williamstown with my mother and maternal grandfather and one near the Susquehanna in PA with my father and paternal grandparents. Before that it was probably the cemetery of a church where I worked my first year of seminary.
I liked this cross, especially set against the fields of tombstones and the hills in the background. Our new area is very beautiful.
I can't claim that I am particularly feeling my mortality, but I am very much aware of the changes happening around me. I found out that "the cat issue" has cropped up again, which will mean substantial conflict with our landlord. I've also just been cut for adjuncting at my alma mater in the fall, which irks me. We still aren't entirely moved in, it will be a while before I can have my classes set up, and I still can't see quite beyond this coming academic year. The outlook is hazy, as the magic eightball said. It helps that babies are entirely unaware of such frustrations. It is also soothing to take a little walk through these green hills filled with crosses and bones.
1 comment:
Great post, Jon.
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