For years I have been driving past this old cemetery in Old Town next to the Beltway. Since the temperature and humidity were ONLY 90, I decided to stop and walk around. Surprisingly, there were quite a few modern graves but there were some that were from the 1700s. I took lots of shots and wondered what people thought as they were burying their loved ones. Or hated ones. Guess it all depends. But the reality of death is that life goes on.
The angel below is a close up of a two foot high angel at a child’s grave. The peaceful look is one that the parents probably hoped for their child. The spider webs, the dried leaves, and the grass clippings are the reality that remains.
This headstone fascinated me. The right top corner had broken so that all that remains is the first name, “Dennis.” But who Dennis was is now a mystery (although I’m sure the caretakers know). So I’m guessing that the family went away, too. Or died. So, Dennis is here alone. Except for those of us who are drawn to that headstone. Or we could make up a story—–a disgruntled ………….. (fill in the blank) who one night crept into the cemetery and broke the last name off so that the ……….. (fill in the blank) Dennis would no longer be associated with the last name of ……………. Or something like that.