Grave Faces IX

Time has turned a mass produced painted statue of the Holy Mother into an extraordinary image of endurance.

 

She might not open her eyes and shake her fist at Heaven shouting, "As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again!" like Scarlet O'Hara in Gone With the Wind

but she will persevere.

As women have done all through history.

 

 

I've taken her picture before, but when I came across this angel a few days ago I was once again was struck by her delicate beauty.

But how strong the angels are.

To remain immobile, praying for all eternity.

 

 

There is something jaunty about this young fellow.

He's all decked out in a bright ribbon and he's playing a happy song.

I hear him playing the old Shaker hymn, "I Am the Lord of the Dance".

 

Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he.

This is not an angel.

It is a little girl.

She is smiling to herself remembering some happy moment that she shared with the person whose grave she is tending.

In a moment she will lean down and place the roses by the headstone.

No grief here, just love.

As soon as I spotted this tiny angel I reached down to brush the weeds away and as you can see from the look on her face I woke her up.

 

 

 

Grief doesn't appear to be something that goes away. 

Even after we've trained our minds to think of other things, there's a layer of sorrow beneath the surface of every thought, every action. 

 

But like the tiny angel above I feel as if I am waking up after a difficult year.

 

I'll leave you with this version of "Lord of the Dance".
 

 

 

 

 

Grave Faces VIII

I came across this pajama party angel a few weeks ago.

She looks just like a teenage girl at a sleep over.

Her mouth is open and she's telling me something.

Something personal, because she knows me so well.

And it's just as scary now as it was in 1967 -

for different reasons.

This woman is not interested in telling me anything.

She's on a mission.

Her head is tilted down with determination

and her eyes are set on her goal.

Although I'm sure  the message is about heaven,

I must say that I've seen that look

on the faces of teachers who are desperately

trying to find time to get to the washroom

during recess.

I get the feeling that

she knows that I am here

and at any moment

her eyes will snap open.

I don't linger.

If this angel is aware of me, 

she doesn't let on.

Her wings are big and heavy looking

and she is very slight

so perhaps she is simply tired.

I suppose angels have to grow into their wings and

adolescence is a struggle in heaven too.

This little fellow really made me laugh.

His name is Hope,


 but neither his face nor his position

suggest anything hopeful.

But he is patient.

If he has to

he can wait an eternity


 for someone to come along and free him.

But he won't have to wait - 

because the message of Spring is

rebirth and hope.

Happy mid April, everyone!

Grave Faces VII

I'm always shocked by the number of slovenly child angels.

Doesn't anyone check them on the way out the door in the morning?



This one has pulled on a robe about four sizes too big.

Not that he is concerned.

Like most small boys he's more interested in what he is doing than in how he looks.


And by the way, he is writing something.


But whatever he had to tell us is long gone, the granite slate brushed clean

by decades of wind, snow and ice.

I mentioned in my last Grave Faces post that faeries are far less common than angels

in graveyards.

They do, however, dress more modestly.


Faeries are mischievous sprites, not always on the side of good,

and they predate Christianity.

I often wonder about the beliefs of the families that leave a faery in

charge of a burial site.


How deeply would you have to scratch some Christians to find a pagan?


Anyway, this one is pretending to be asleep.

Like the child who is buried under her.

Toddler angels often set out on their daily mission naked. 

At least this little fellow who is playing his fiddle so merrily, was able to grab a loin cloth.


Clothed or not, he seems to be saying that death is nothing to be sad about.


Easy enough for angels to say, I suppose.

Adult angels take their work, and their wardrobe much more seriously.


This fully clothed and lovely young angel's job isn't to tell us anything about heaven.

She is telling us about earth and mourning.

And we instictively recognize the path she is on.


This is the necessary time before 'the letting go'.

At first glance these two appear far too young to be employed in a cemetery. 



But consider this, they are still with the child they were called to watch over

 long after her grave has been abandoned by all who knew her in life.


Not so young after, all.

This isn't a very good photograph but I just had to include it because he looks so guilty.

He's obviously just returned from a dip in a nearby puddle.

And he wasn't expecting me.


But then I wasn't expecting him either.




A lovely end to my walk.

Grave Faces VI

To everything there is a season ...

Ecclesiastes 3:1

Spring is a time to tend to graves.

It is a time to do right by the guardians who have weathered the storms of winter.

This little fellow looks as if he's been waiting an eternity for someone to come and tidy him up.

I've seen students wear that look of resignation when they've been waiting for something necessary but mildly threatening to happen - like a dental screening.

Maybe boy angels don't like their spring baths.

Faeries originated in pre-Christian times and  aren't very common in the graveyards I've visited.

Not surprising because faeries are wild and magical creatures, capable of stealing a person's soul.

This one has a bit of a zombie-ish look but seems friendly enough.  

I found it sitting on the ground in front of a weeping angel.

Pagan and Christian. Two very different attitudes towards life in the other world.

Someone wanted to make sure that all of the spiritual bases were covered, I suppose.

As a rule I don't touch another family's guardians, but this little creature looked so vulnerable I just couldn't leave her on the ground.

I imagine that the spring sun will wake her up.


Or a quick scrub under the faucet if the family gets to her before the warm weather does.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!"

It looks as if she heard me coming and quickly got into position without having had time to wash her face or brush off the flotsam and jetsam of winter.

Not as carefully formed as the last two, but on the other hand she is much younger.

Almost an embryo angel, or one just out of the shell.


She looks chilly, as if she should be snuggled under the wing of her angel mother instead of already on the job.

I seem to have startled this sweet blue bear and timid furry bunny.

They are a poignant reminder that Death comes not just for the old

I imagine them sitting on the child's window sill and watching over the crib the way they now watch over his or her resting place.

Blessed are those who mourn

For they shall be comforted ...

Matthew 5:4

It is extraordinarily peaceful here and although I have found that time doesn't lessen the pain, I hope it has brought some measure of acceptance.

***

Related articles

• Faery Kingdom (thefaerieworld.wordpress.com)
• Faeries, Aliens and Otherworlds - Keys to Parallel Worlds and Multidimensions? (loupdargent.com)

Grave Faces

I love cemeteries.

The dead, when I see them in their coffins, don't always look comfortable. Being returned to the earth seems to bring peace.

This is an unusual monument because it is a realistic portrait of a 19th century woman and it stands in a part of the cemetery that is filled with sculptures of angels and saints. 

She gazes down directly into the eyes of anyone who pauses at her grave. She neither judges us, nor tries to save us. Her gaze is so impassive, it looks as if she is on a journey and is waiting for us to pass before she continues.

I wonder about purgatory as I snap her picture.

I found this little fellow standing all alone. This is not an angel, it is a little boy.

I wonder if it is his own or his mother's grave he is forever contemplating. There is no inscription on the statue and the area around him has returned to its natural state.

Such a pensive angel! She isn't praying, she is lost in thought. When I look like that I'm ususallly thinking about what's for supper.

Before I take her picture I wonder what an angel would daydream about while on duty.

Okay, here we have an angel who is definitely at work. She is watching someone intently and she looks ready to spring into action.

Definitely the guardian angel of someone who had a little trouble staying on the straight and narrow while among the living.

This angel is not only praying, she is also pointing the way to heaven in case I have forgotten where it is.

A beautiful, serene angel lost in prayer.

As I walk around this tomb, I hope this playful sculpture of three lost toddlers brought some comfort to their parents.  The inscription and the lamb make me think of the Bible verse I learned as a child:

"Let the little children come to me, and do not forbid them, for of such is the Kingdom of God.

Luke 18:16

Such is the Kingdom of God, indeed.

Have a peaceful, rainy Sunday, everyone!