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I still can't go there. To that little swatch of grass bathed in sunlight without even a dappling of shade It seems like a  green field of memories with almost no one left to remember Even the words  subscribed on the tiny brass plaques seem somehow belittling   With them set into the ground for the convenience of mowers to pass over It makes her seem so inconsequential that she shouldn't trouble the groundskeeper with her monument It makes me think of the mundane consequences of death that overshadow the greatness of life Like the simple economics of  maintenance I can't look at the life of such a beautiful women summed up in such a small way it seems  so common so trite I know that she would have told you that she was common but she wasn't She had a greatness in her soul and being that transcended the normal that transcends death I am overwhelmed by that little plaque and it's insignificance Enough to paralyze me from going there I know that if I see it it will push the other memories from my mind   and supplant her She will become a place in a cemetery with a little map on the grounds keeping shed gridded and numbered number 6 in row B a little part of the order in a small field and I can't have that
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
Thinking about the cemetery
I still can't go there. To that little swatch of grass bathed in sunlight without even a dappling of shade It seems like a  green field of memories with almost no one left to remember Even the words  subscribed on the tiny brass plaques seem somehow belittling   With them set into the ground for the convenience of mowers to pass over It makes her seem so inconsequential that she shouldn't trouble the groundskeeper with her monument It makes me think of the mundane consequences of death that overshadow the greatness of life Like the simple economics of  maintenance I can't look at the life of such a beautiful women summed up in such a small way it seems  so common so trite I know that she would have told you that she was common but she wasn't She had a greatness in her soul and being that transcended the normal that transcends death I am overwhelmed by that little plaque and it's insignificance Enough to paralyze me from going there I know that if I see it it will push the other memories from my mind   and supplant her She will become a place in a cemetery with a little map on the grounds keeping shed gridded and numbered number 6 in row B a little part of the order in a small field and I can't have that
For My mother, Charlotte Jarrett with all my love
james-jarrett
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
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