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Cemetery art is very unappreciated. I love to drive through the cemeteries and look for the art that may be seen by others but quickly dismissed and viewed as gloomy.

It's in my blood, shall I say, since my great grandfather was a sexton (grave digger) in a Catholic cemetery in the dawn of the 20th century. Remember that those were the days of a shovel and sweat and blisters- before heavy equipment like a backhoe or Bobcat!!

You can read his amazing story here

My son, N., is named for him.

Also, a cemetery employee had the advantage of job security and they were usually very appreciated, as most people were glad to have them do a very essential job that they themselves knew they were not born for.

Iron workers (blacksmiths) and stone carvers were essential employees of the old cemeteries as well- all done with sweat and blisters- no modern technology and machines.

The Visit

(Living creatures explore an ancient headstone. There were many different symbolic images carved into cemetery markers. This one meant "heaven bound".)

" They're coming to get you Barbara"

( Now for any of you who have seen the movie this may strike a shiver in your soul.

"They're coming to get you Barbara." But this photo would be fun to use as a background for an altered art project about ghosts...

they could be friendly ghosts, right!!?As I stood in this spot I was reminded of the beginning of the movie ...and that quote, although being in a cemetery does not scare me.

I actually do not think that cemeteries are that spooky. I know that's weird. I have two cousins that have worked in one for lots of years. I have a very distant relative that owned some funeral homes until they sold to someone else. My late father in law used to drive an ambulance for a funeral home when he was a young man. My favorite link to the whole cemetery scene is my great grandfather.)

Weeping

(Wonderful craftsmanship and countless hours of work withstanding the test of time and hundreds of years of moss and such clinging to the stone. This statue is fascinating and surreal and thought provoking. It must have cost a lot all those ages ago. It stands out because the other monuments are more plain and traditional. Someone must have been loved very much and missed an awful lot! Many of the markers are so old that you can no longer read the info (even if you do a rubbing with paper and crayon over top of the engravings). Many of the ones you can slightly read are in German. Some are whole families and a great number are infants. Imagine the harsh Michigan winters and other seasonal elements weathering these markers for a hundred years and more! It is high on a hill and the wind whistles through the trees and across the old weathered tombstones. In between the wind's sounds there is nothing but "dead silence", sorry couldn't resist.)

The Iron Gate
( A proud man crafted this ornate gate and fence.)
Gobbled Up
( Time and nature do not stand still. The tree needed room to flourish and grow. This is one of our absolute favorites- the tree has been slowly eating up the tombstone while life goes on as usual outside the gates of the cemetery, year after year after year.)

Life Goes On

(A busy modern day farm is a neighbor of a graveyard now home to many past centuries' farmers- a profound silent reminder of the circle of life.)


All photos are found here .

Mother

The reason I celebrate Mother's Day...

This grouping is my mom holding my first born, E. (now 16 years old-where do the years get to?). The first photo in the top left is in the hospital the first time she held her!

I was privileged to honor my mom each year on Mother's Day until I was in my early 30's....I am so glad she was able to see me celebrate Mother's Day as a mom myself for 3 years before she died in 1995.

Time slips by much too quickly. She was so very sick for so many years though she fought hard every step of the way. She did not live to see my second baby. She would have loved my 3 children, just as she loved each and every one of her grand and great grand kids.

She was wearing her wig in these pictures- she had some hair growing back after being bald(for the second time. ..there would also be a third time) but preferred to wear the wig to leave the house (or for photos). From the time E. began to talk in sentences she was always very precocious and I will never forget the day she first said, "Bye-bye car?" (which translates to ARE WE GOING BYE BYE?)and pointed as her Grammy was putting on the wig. Even when really sick, my Mom always put on her lipstick and perfume whenever she went out- even a quick trip to the grocery store.

When my mom was bedridden in her last days and I was 5 months pregnant with my A., we were fortunate to have wonderful help at our house from Hospice because I was told to be extra cautious since my previous pregnancy was a miscarriage. They would help me to bathe Mom. I knew how much she loved her lipstick and perfume so we made sure to spritz some perfume on her after washing her. My mom's cancer was then spread to her brain and she was acting and saying things not quite on spot. She told me one day in a whisper at her bedside, "Watch that woman, I'm sure she is stealing my perfume. Can't you smell it?" She did not realize she was smelling it on herself! We skipped the lipstick at that point.

All summer long, I had a different bouquet of fresh flowers from the garden on her dresser each day for her to enjoy. I told her my heart was telling me that rather than me fussing over a grave site in the future, we should see and smell beautiful flowers -right now, while we are still together. She understood. In her more lucid moments we talked frankly about her dying and death.

Even now, on Mother's Day and on her birthday I work in the flowers gardens at home instead of fussing over a grave site. They are her flower gardens since I live in the inherited house in which I grew up. I feel closest to her among the perennial flowers that she planted. I feel great joy tending the garden for future generations and future Mother's Days and allowing happy memories of Mom to flood my mind among the bright colors and fragrances...sweet as her perfume!

Today I am able to celebrate Mother's Day with my children because my mother chose to be a mother.

Think about it.

FLASH BACK-The girl in the RED shoes...

Growing up, I was the baby of the family with 3 MUCH older brothers. Being the only girl and the youngest gets you three things: 1. new stuff like clothes and shoes, not sibling hand me downs and 2. toys you do not have to share with your older siblings and 3. your own room!

My mom was so thrilled to dress a blonde girl...but she didn't have an unlimited budget since she had 3 teen/preteen boys that were 1. filling stomachs that never seemed full and 2. outgrowing shoes at an alarming rate and 3. had pants that seemed to show their ankles each time she turned around!

My mom was pretty smart in the way she dressed her little blonde girl. In order to assure that I always had pretty little dresses and plenty of shoes for every occasion, she shopped ahead and shopped the end of season clearance racks. She did this from the time I was a baby.


I have lots of fond memories when she would take me along to the big Lion Department Store and we would gather many dresses- among them, Polly Flinders smocked front dresses and velvets and some with fancy collars or pinafores. Matching 2 piece Carter's play clothes with fun appliques and novelty pockets like apples or lady bugs. She would wait until they were marked WAY down and she could get them for a song. She had the attitude that whatever size was there at the end of the markdowns was just what we were meant to get...just as long as it was TOO BIG for me and could be put away to save and dole out whenever the item may fit. She was quite good at guessing my rate of growth for the items that were season specific. Dresses were the easiest as most were year round appropriate. When I was a little older, I remember going to a store called Jiminy Cricket at rock bottom price time and picking out pre teen clothing and anxiously anticipating being "grown up" enough to wear them.

By far my most favorite of all memories was the shoe department after Easter when shoes were reduced to sell the odds and ends of what was left. Once again, Mom felt that fate would provide the shoes meant for my feet in the future months --there among the boxes of 1. Stride Rite patent leathers with straps and buckles or 2. Buster Brown saddle shoes, some with pink or velvet sides and diagonally striped laces or 3. Keds or PF Flyers sneakers complete with the rubber toe cap, sure to make me run faster or jump higher than anyone! Some kids grew up trying on their Mother's shoes dreaming about some day when they would grow. I grew up trying on my own collection of shoes that were stashed in the closet, just like my own shoe store...dreaming of when I would grow.
There is something about that new shoe smell, when you take them out of the box and how about the distinctive sound you hear from that crinkly tissue paper that nestles them. I also recall, with much clarity, the tapping sound of new "high heels"- that were only about 1" but seemed very grown up- as I walked back and forth across the tile floor like some kind of a super model. There were many nights that a new pair of shoes were parked proudly at my bedside so I could keep them near and assure a gaze upon them when first my sleepy eyes opened the next morning.
Here's the very best part of shoe memories...they repeat when you have your own kids.
As a little girl, my A loved to do the same let's see how nice the "grown up high heels" sound as I parade across the tile thing.
And just a few weeks ago, my N purposely SLEPT IN his new tennis shoes!! Keeping them parked by the bedside was not good enough!
Hey, do you remember that baby boomer contraption that measured your shoe size when you inserted your sock covered foot into a machine and it squeezed your foot? As a kid I remember being very fascinated by it and maybe a teensy bit leery.
I think you can click to make these photos bigger. We always fed stale bread and crackers to the ducks at the cemetery. Gotta love a bouquet of Dandelions gathered with love! Palm Sunday palms need to be braided, don't they?My dog's name was Scarlet. The book I was reading is probably still in my library.

the gardens and Momma

Sunday I spent hours working in the garden. I trimmed back the dead perennials and cleaned the many pine needles that fall from the tall, tall white pines above my house. One of the things I have been wanting to get to all summer is to dig up the edging bricks and reset them. The dirt and plants seem to take over and they disappear over time. Now the garden looks all clean and tidy and ready for some fresh beautiful colored fall mums to be tucked in the empty spots. A kind of new beginning.



Each spring I plant these two rusted red wagons, one smaller size stacked inside a bigger one, with Impatiens. Impatiens always look nice and full at this time of year.

I enjoy working in the garden whenever the mosquitoes will leave me alone long enough to accomplish something. The reason I worked in the garden Sunday is that I always work in the garden on August 31st. Or at least for the last 13 years.

13 years ago, when she was dying and couldn't go to the garden, I promised my mom that I would bring the garden to her to enjoy. I did- by bringing in fresh flowers from the garden each day. I took care of her in our home even after she was bedridden and I was 5 months pregnant and had a 3 yr old (E.) to care for too.


We had many frank discussions about death and what I would do without her. How would I go on without her? I told her that I would not mourn by hanging out at her grave. ( Ironically, part of E's mourning process was to have me drive her to the grave 3 or 4 times every week for about 2 years!! The child mourning "experts" told me to do it if that was what she asked for, since Grammy had been a daily part of E's life for her first 3 years; the years that some say are the most developmentally important. She would clean and fuss around the grave marker like a 90 year old widow.)


I told my mom I would feel her with me every day and everywhere...especially in her gardens. (I inherited her house) I promised to "be with her" every August 31st by working in the dirt of a garden. There I can think and solve things weighing heavy on my mind. And find joy in nature and God and the hope of things renewing even after death.



Pictured above are my mom and dad. Pictured below are my aunt and my mom. These were taken in 1950 at my dad's brother's wedding. My mom was 23. I love these images of her. Check out her hat as she stands at the punch bowl!!


I most often addressed my mom as, "Momma".
Pretty weird but... the only one of my three that calls me "Momma", is my E. Guess she listened to me.
For some more weirdness:
I dreamed a dream filled with strange events that had symbolism that made perfect sense just before waking on Friday. My mom was part of it. I got up and immediately started writing it. N. watched me as the cursive written dream story came off my hand and on to the paper as fast as I could scribble. 
I had the girls read it. 
A's response was quick and dry and typical of A.'s wit and wisdom:
"Ok Mom, you keep writing that Mothman stuff." *pause* 
Also weird is what happened last year (read about it here)
The best and very weirdest thing was (this!!)

This Is Going To Be A Long One!

My kids...I have 3. 
 E. is named for a distant great-grandparent.
My other 2 are N. and A. They were both named for their Great-Great Grandparents N. and A. I am showing you every picture I own of my Great Grandparents N. and A.
I am an exuberant genealogist. I have records of family back to the late 18th century for my mom's family and back to the 17th century for my dad's family!!! I have leads to more information spots. I just need to someday get to them.

Please note that these pictures are NOT

from the Dead Fred web site

and are NOT episodes of "Fantasy Family"!!!!

They are my own family photos.

The story of N. and A. is so intriguing it is better than a novel.

This (above) is an original tin type picture (not sure of the year) of my Great Grandpa N. 
Even though, admittedly, he has a strange hair style, ears that can be joke-worthy, and a kind of haunting expression (remember those were days when snapping a photo and having the "film" exposed long enough for certain kinds of photos was a long boring process of keeping perfectly still; enough to make anyone lose their spirit of Just Say Cheeses!), I love that this photo shows N.'s nose so well and reminds me of both my brother's and son's nose....pretty fun! N. came to America from Germany through Ellis Island in 1894. He traveled in steerage and arrived with one piece of baggage. He listed his occupation on the ship's manifest log as "gardener". Here's the really neat part (I think it's neat, anyway!) Gardener is code for...GRAVE DIGGER! It was a much needed profession. Everyone dies!!!!!! Keep in mind that this was in the days before back hoes and end loaders. N. was the sexton {caretaker, grave digger} for a Catholic church in Ohio. His house was across the intersection from the cemetery. Can you just picture him setting off on foot in the early morning fog to go dig a grave??????? Kinda like a movie scene.
He is listed in the city directory {which is on microfilm at the library} as a "florist", "sexton" and...get ready for this..."saloon owner"!!! Oh I love it! I wonder how many drinkers he put into the ground???? The most ironic part of N's story is that his occupation of grave digger is what ultimately put him, at an early age, under a stone monument in his own cemetery!! More on that later...

This (above) is a copy of a photo taken in Germany (the original picture is now in Luxembourg with relatives). Left to right it is N's brother, Peter; N's father, also Peter; and N's mother, Elizabeth. They lived to be age 49, 90 and 80 respectively.

This photo (above) is a copy of a photo taken in 1899 in Germany (the original photo is now in Luxembourg with relatives). N. had already come to America 5 years prior.

Left to right adults are N's sister-in-law Catherine; N's Father, Peter; and N's brother, Peter. The two children are N's nieces, Catherine and Margaret. I used the name Catherine for E.'s middle name. My nephew used it for his daughter's middle name, as well.

This is a copy of the original wedding photo of N. and A. (Original photo now in Luxembourg).

N. was almost 16 years her senior. A. had 6 siblings; one sister lived to be 98.

This is my favorite photo. I display it prominently and proudly in an enlarged 11x14 framed size on a fancy easel. Even though these may have been their only best clothes, it still makes me think they are a handsome, well put together, dapper family. It is a copy of a photo taken in Ohio in 1905. This is A. and N. with their 5 children.

Children left to right are: sitting- baby Arthur; standing in back are- Ella and Margaret; standing in front are A. Rose and M.

M. is my mom's mom. My daughter is named A. Rose and her Godmother is her aunt, Rose. 

One year after this photo was taken of this beautiful family, N. was dead at age 47 and A. was a widow with 5 young children. A. was rather short and had somewhat large hands for a woman... both traits I share.

(Fair Warning: post-mortem photo below. ) Stop here if this is not for you. However, please know that this was a very common practice in our history... and I offer some trivia below the photo as the post continues.

I apologize if this photo of my Great Grandpa is offensive to any of you.

I have the ORIGINAL memorial death photo of my Great Grandpa N. I personally think it is a treasure!!!!

I have a weird sense of fascination when it comes to traipsing through cemeteries, doing grave marker rubbings and photographing cemetery art. My whole life, my mom often took me to cemeteries to take photos of me with beautiful gardens or among the Autumn leaves. She had a way of taking them so that no one who views them knows they were in a place with tombstones. I get a kick out of someone remarking that they think it is a beautiful garden in the photos and want to know where it was photographed!

Maybe the cemetery attraction comes from heredity??!!

A bit of trivia for you: Did you know that when cemeteries changed from tiny "church yards" to sprawling "memorial parks" people actually treated them as "parks" and often took leisurely strolls and picnics there!!

His official cause of death is congestion of the brain. I have done lots of research on this early 20th century term but have still drawn no clear conclusion.

The stories that have been passed down are somewhat conflicting...

that N. was digging a grave and his foot was injured, either while digging or from a grave marker falling on his foot, blood poisoning and fever resulting. All stories trace the initial injury or event to him being in the process of preparing a grave.

A. then had the task of buying a plot to bury him in his place of employment. She paid $30 for the grave site, a lot of money back then. I wonder if he got an employee discount!
And I don't think there was any workman's compensation benefit for an injury/death on the job.

A. began to take in boarders in her home to help finance the care of her young family. One of her boarders was a Mr. F who came from New York and was a brick worker by trade. Mr. F's family was in Buffalo N.Y. and came to America from Germany.

Ten months after A's beloved N. died she married Mr. F~ She was 33 years old and had 5 children~ He was 23 and agreeing to take on the responsibility of 5 children not his own!!! Imagine that letter sent to the folks back home in Buffalo!!! A. became pregnant with Mr. F's twins and sadly she died in childbirth along with the twins. Mr. F buried her with N.

She was one month shy of her 35th birthday. (I was 35 when I had my 2nd miscarriage.)

Now Mr. F was left a widower at age 25 with 5 mouths to feed; children to which he had no blood relationship.

My grandma was taken by young Mr. F a few weeks after her 8th birthday, along with her 4 siblings, and dropped off at the orphanage. It was run by the Catholic church and she was raised by the nuns until she left as a teenager.

Since they were dropped off without any documents, like birth records, my grandma didn't know for sure which day was her birthday Feb. 20th or Feb 22nd.

Surprisingly, our Luxembourg relatives have a letter that surfaced in the 1980's penned from N. in Ohio to his brother Peter in Germany dated in the Autumn of 1904 ( it is written in German and has been translated to English) stating that " Little M. will get 4 years on February 25th."

This time I used my own family photos to tell a real family story...maybe even better than any of my far fetched "Fantasy Family" stories.

Hey it's so good, you can't make this stuff up!!!!!!!!!!

10 Things I Like To Do Outside During Summer

Note: These two little pictures are my own drawings that I did in colored pencil. I matted them this morning with card stock.

1. I really enjoy digging in the compost pile in the backyard and finding lots of wiggly worms busy at work. I have wonderful rich soil under the surface of the compost and the worms are the reason!!

2. This kind of goes with the first one...I think it is fun to get really, really dirty while gardening and then shower all clean with some yummy smelling shower gel.

3. Have you ever just reclined in the grass and looked up into the tree tops? I think it is a very peaceful, almost meditation type, thing to do.

4. Can anyone ever grow out of the fun that is riding a bike? I hope not! It brings so much to your senses.

5. I get a thrill out of finding interesting dead wood branches that fall from our tall trees. Some of them are truly nature's art.

6. I like the smell of the wet dirt after a summer rain. I adore going out to jump in puddles with the kids.  (I just noticed that a lot of these thoughts include "dirt"!!)

7. On rare occasions I get the chance to sit in the shade and read. When I do get the chance, I wish I could change my name temporarily to something other than "MOM!". Sometimes in my lap it's decorating magazines or papercrafting/scrapbooking magazines. Sometimes a non-fiction book.

8. We go to the cemetery and feed the ducks in the big pond. It is a perfect way to clean out all the stale bits and crumbs of crackers, cereal and the like from the pantry. I also like to hang out in cemeteries cuz it's in my blood (read more cemetery posts for that info!)

9. Strangely enough, I like to wash windows. I don't do it as often as I should - but the sparkling satisfaction of clean glass makes me happy and seems to make the house almost smile!

10. The kids and I build "fairy houses" in the front yard in an area where the grass never grows. We use sticks, leaves, moss, ferns, pine needles, shells, stones and other nature things. We have done this for about 10 years. It is like a whole village!! Their friends love to come over and build too.