I am still waiting to hear about stuff. Every knock on the door, every phone call makes me jump. Nothing yet, hence no further discussion about that at this time.
My best friend tells me yesterday of a beautiful, quiet place she found to walk and think. I need to think. It is not too far away, so today Pearlsky and I took a trip.
It really was gorgeous. There were some very funky trees … I love how tree trunks can become …
and if it were not for the occasional whisper from nowhere or hand reaching up from the ground, you would never know we were in a cemetery. A large, beautiful, quiet, non-denominational place to hang out and think.
Okay, I made up the part about the hand and whisper, but the rest is true.
We walk over to a beautiful pond, and I sit on a small granite bench. After about ten minutes I get up and notice a small footstone. There is no headstone, and as a matter of fact, there are no other graves for a small area around this one stone. It overlooks the pond, and is all alone.
I am fascinated by it. It is one of the few markers without a religious symbol, without a family tie (“beloved father …”), with very little information. “Teacher,” that is all.
Being a pedagogue myself, in some ways I agree that that is all that need be said. But why? Did A. him/herself request this footstone after death? Did A. die a pauper and his/her students provided the burial? Did A. die alone?
What will mine say?
Something about the simplicity of it. The placement, by itself at the pond, drew me to it, enough to take the picture, enough to wonder … enough to learn.
My the Lord bless the internet and bring high speed to all of us!
Thanks to Google and more, I now know a bit more about the man in the grave. It appears his wife and daughter are still alive, and in my town, as he was. And yes, a teacher, actually a well respected university professor. My alma mater, to boot. Same place I taught. And he is well published.
Published. About interesting stuff. Stuff like non-verbal communication.
Holy shit. Non-verbal communication.
I ordered a book he wrote. Holy shit.
The cemetery … everyone is equal. There are no lies. There are no secrets. Just the truth. Love, loss, and peace.