Along the old railroad path pictured in the last post were a few headstones. They were out in the middle of the woods not too far off the path. The woods is private property now and most of it is fenced off. Normally no one would ever see the graves as the leaves would conceal them. But since the leaves are long gone the headstones could be seen. They are a little hard to read but they listed three people:
An infant that died when it was delivered on October 23, 1836
Isabella Sedwick who died March 10, 1848 at the age of 7
and Marion Sedwick who died January 8, 1850 at the age of 15.
I have no idea who the people were, what they did, why the died or why they are buried in a woods and forgotten. But at least they are remembered here. Another note about this is that a friend of mine drove past here late one night and saw a little girl in an old dress running through the field across the road. Maybe it was Isabella.
This is the schoolhouse that where the previous photo was taken and where my camera died. It really is an awesome building, though it is kind of creepy. We were’t able to get into it but the grounds still made for some good photos. There were a couple other small buildings on the property and an old playground. Hopefully we will be able to get into the building one day and hopefully I won’t lose another camera to the place.
This is Jennifer, Dustin’s wife. She is a good mother to Autumn and Kaleb, my niece and nephew. Her and Dustin brought the first new kids into the family and they were a great addition. While I do not know Jennifer as well as my siblings, she is a good mother and sister-in-law, who has done well raising her kids and helping her family
Inspiration strikes at weird times and it is affected by everything around us. Things we do, see, hear, read, feel and think about. Images pop up or the simple urge to make a mark pushes us to create. It happens in countless mediums and in countless ways. I sit in my room and read and think and then I have the urge to draw. Someone told me about how children at a certain age draw for the simple pleasure of making marks and the feel of the motion as pencil hits paper. So I did that. I just drew, with really no meaning or purpose other than the marks I made felt good to draw. Great artists spend their entire lives trying to draw like a child. And I really think there is something behind that.
I wasn’t particularly excited to go see the new Orangutan Center at the Zoo. But we went and it is a very impressive building. But what actually took my breath away were the Orangutans. I watched this one climb up the ladder he walked right up to the glass sat down and watched the people. He was as interested in us as we were in him. When I saw his eyes and the way he looked at people it was incredible. He was so intelligent. You could see it in his eyes. And I stood there and watched a little girl stare at him and he stared right back and then they mimicked each others hands. I don’t know why this struck me but it did. There was just something about these creatures that was incredibly impressive.
Every two weeks I find myself here. Sitting. Waiting. Hoping. Doctors are nothing new for me. Familiar to the point of annoyance. Hospitals, just the same. I’ve fought my way through. Ten surgeries solidified the end of one ailment and the beginning of another. Its almost habitual now. To be there. Know the routine. The “hurry up and wait” moment. I don’t mind it so much now as I did then. The hardest is watching the kids come through. Hearing their quiet sobs because they don’t understand what is going on or why they go through the pain. If I could, I would take it all on for them.
Thank you to all health care professionals for taking the time to study, learn, love, care, hope & treat.