Memorial Park- The beginning of the process, and the pathway to understanding.
To say I have family buried all over this town would be a understatement. I can't think of a cemetery where I don't have a friend or family member laid to rest, which means when Memorial Day comes around, we have a lot of driving that we do. It's a wonderful adventure, but this post is about the first time I knew I was a cemetery eidolon, and the emotional experience that came with it.
The one thing that stands out for me that day was the sun.
Because of my work schedule at the time, I wouldn't wake up until 1pm or 2pm, depending on if I had to work at 3pm, or if I had a day off and choose to get some extra sleep. The sun was beautiful, bright in a cloudless sky, and the air was pleasantly warm. I wanted to take full advantage of the day and, as was obvious from the last post, not be home when my boyfriend at the time got off work. He'd had an early shift and would be home by 5pm. I didn't want to be anywhere near there.
We had veen forced to start taking the bus because he didn't take proper care of his car and it shot a rod through the engine block. All that was left was to bike to a bus 2 miles down the road and then ride it to work. On this day, I just decided to walk and enjoy the fresh air.
I walked past houses and business before reaching the gates, and it took me a full minute to realize that this would be the first time I would be going in alone. Every visit before was either with my mother and father, or a significant other. I was a little apprehensive, just because there were a lot of weird people that liked to hang around cemeteries, and I didn't want to be without some kind of defense. The only other alternative was to go back home, and I really couldn't stomach that. So, taking my courage in hand, I stepped across the threshold and walked up the small slop to where the cemetery began. And it was beautiful. (the photo featured was taken later that year because I ended up losing all pictures I had of that day).
The bell tower stood proud among the cloudless sky, and it was a humbling sight to behold. I stopped to take a picture, admiring the beautiful craftsmanship before continuing down the path that lead towards the back of the cemetery.
I passed mausoleums made of marble, one dedicated to the Mayo brothers, founders of Tulsa's own Mayo Hotel. My father worked for one of them when he began his apprenticeship as an engineer. I did have a photo of the crypt, however, my SD majorly failed and every picture I had was gone. I plan to get another shortly and I will update the blog to show it.
I continued down the road, stopping to take sips of water to stave off the heat. That was when my eye caught a beautiful memorial to a war hero.
This man had a long and prosperous career, though his life was cut short. It was an honor to stand before the monument and read his history. His family had headstones in the lawn in front, and it's a truly beautiful sight.
Walking past the monument and crossing the bridge, I saw a few more interesting monuments that I had to capture on film, and it made me realize how truly amazing and beautiful this cemetery really is. So many times I'd only been focused on going to visit my family and leaving that I never took a moment to look around and appreciate what had been placed inside the hallowed grounds, and it made me want to walk over every inch of the property to find what other treasures were hidden within.
Here is what greeted me, and they are truly remarkable.
The one thing that stands out for me that day was the sun.
Because of my work schedule at the time, I wouldn't wake up until 1pm or 2pm, depending on if I had to work at 3pm, or if I had a day off and choose to get some extra sleep. The sun was beautiful, bright in a cloudless sky, and the air was pleasantly warm. I wanted to take full advantage of the day and, as was obvious from the last post, not be home when my boyfriend at the time got off work. He'd had an early shift and would be home by 5pm. I didn't want to be anywhere near there.
We had veen forced to start taking the bus because he didn't take proper care of his car and it shot a rod through the engine block. All that was left was to bike to a bus 2 miles down the road and then ride it to work. On this day, I just decided to walk and enjoy the fresh air.
I walked past houses and business before reaching the gates, and it took me a full minute to realize that this would be the first time I would be going in alone. Every visit before was either with my mother and father, or a significant other. I was a little apprehensive, just because there were a lot of weird people that liked to hang around cemeteries, and I didn't want to be without some kind of defense. The only other alternative was to go back home, and I really couldn't stomach that. So, taking my courage in hand, I stepped across the threshold and walked up the small slop to where the cemetery began. And it was beautiful. (the photo featured was taken later that year because I ended up losing all pictures I had of that day).
The bell tower stood proud among the cloudless sky, and it was a humbling sight to behold. I stopped to take a picture, admiring the beautiful craftsmanship before continuing down the path that lead towards the back of the cemetery.
I passed mausoleums made of marble, one dedicated to the Mayo brothers, founders of Tulsa's own Mayo Hotel. My father worked for one of them when he began his apprenticeship as an engineer. I did have a photo of the crypt, however, my SD majorly failed and every picture I had was gone. I plan to get another shortly and I will update the blog to show it.
I continued down the road, stopping to take sips of water to stave off the heat. That was when my eye caught a beautiful memorial to a war hero.
This man had a long and prosperous career, though his life was cut short. It was an honor to stand before the monument and read his history. His family had headstones in the lawn in front, and it's a truly beautiful sight.
Walking past the monument and crossing the bridge, I saw a few more interesting monuments that I had to capture on film, and it made me realize how truly amazing and beautiful this cemetery really is. So many times I'd only been focused on going to visit my family and leaving that I never took a moment to look around and appreciate what had been placed inside the hallowed grounds, and it made me want to walk over every inch of the property to find what other treasures were hidden within.
Here is what greeted me, and they are truly remarkable.
A Native American Masoleum.
Beautiful pillared monument.
And as I walked on down the small concrete footpath, I came upon a mausoleum I can't help but stop at every time I visit. It is so endearing, and here is why.
The structure itself is a masterpiece of stonework, and the doors are beautiful pieces of metal. The first time I ever visited this structure the doors were locked, but I was thankful there was glass behind the bars, allowing me to peek inside. It quickly became my favorite place.
A week ago, while my mom and I were visiting, I was rewarded with something amazing, and let me tell you, patience always pays off. On this day, the doors were unlocked, and I was able to step inside and get a picture of what my eyes had always seen, but my camera had never been able to capture.
The air inside was cool, but the smell was damp. It made me cough, but it was entirely worth it.
A husband and wife, ash boxes side by side in their final resting place, behind glass.
This makes my heart melt every time, and is, in my opinion, the sweetest memorial I have come across. I plan to lay flowers on my next visit.
Taking the left turn, I continued the walk while sipping on water and listening to music. Somehow, i found the perfect playlist that added to the serenity. I was finding myself at peace inside the walls and on the grounds. I was alone, but I wasn't afraid. My mind was clear, my stress was gone, and I was walking among the graves of people who helped to shape this world in their own small way, but also people who saw firsthand the tides of time change, whether it grew and prospered, who failed and started over. These people had seen it all, and it was a privilege to be there.
To this day, I consider this place my home away from home. It was a place that gave me comfort when I needed it, and a sanctuary that no one could disturb. To this day, I'm still drawn back to it, and could happily spend the day picnicking by the lake, or giving someone the same tour I gave myself all those years ago.
I came upon a small fenced in area with a statue of Jesus towering in the center. There was also a great metal bible propped open. Jesus's hands were outstretched as if welcoming the souls laid to rest, and it was such a wonderful sight that I was compelled to capture it. Now, just a warning for most, I'm a Pagan. I believe in many Gods and Goddesses, but when you see the photos, you might just understand why I had to take the pictures.
Due to family rivalry, mainly between my father and his sisters, when my grandmother died in 2003, rather than bury her as was her final wishes, they had her cremated and kept the ashes. Because of the rules of the cemetery, unless the ashes or the body are buried, a death date can't be placed on the headstone. And because my aunt is the caretaker and, for lack of a better word, owner of the plots, we can't even make a request for one to be placed. It makes me sad to know that she isn't there, resting beside her husband, but I know she's watching over us, and that my aunts will pay dearly when they cross over and have to explain their actions. They played a very dirty game with all of us, and I know it will come back to bite them.
After saying my last goodbye's and telling them how much I loved them, I traversed a little further up the road and came to the resting place of the infants and children. It's almost heartbreaking to see so many young lives that had come and gone; some for only a few years, others day, but most, never having taken a breath. I grieve for these families, especially the ones with stillborn twins, or multiple children that were taken so early. I plan to start a GoFundMe to lay flowers on these graves. Some are so old that the parents are no longer living, and whatever family they did have is either deceased or no longer visit.
My aunt had her child buried out there, and hardly anyone knew of it until after her death. We now have another grave we visit to pay our love to on Memorial Day, and I feel honored to be doing it for my aunt.
As I was winding my visit to a close, I looked in the distance, and saw what appeared to be a steeple, and I wanted to see what it contained. I wanted to run up that slope, but with the heat of the day I wasn't going to risk getting sick or even wearing myself out. I still had to climb the hill to get back out, and then take the hill to go back home. It was well worth the wait it took to walk, and I documented the tribute to all the soldiers of war in stunning photography. More will be added on my next visit when mom and I, or whoever is with me, have more time just to drive or walk, and enjoy the day. I think the memorial is fitting and proper, and it makes my heart soar to know they will never be forgotten.
As I walked back up the slope, and found myself back at the gates, I had a renewed appreciation for the people that came before me. I wondered what lives they must have led, the things they must have seen, the people they came across, and where their loved ones were now, so many years after their death?
I found a place of solace, of peace and tranquility, and as I stepped back outside the black gates, heading back towards a home I didn't want to be in, that I dreaded returning to, I made a vow to return often, to show my gratitude for their lives and actions, and to show the world that cemeteries are not creepy, or strange, or even macabre. These places are where history comes to a close, and where we can honor those lives for the rest of ours. We are their story tellers, and the images captured give a glimpse into those worlds. They show that beauty is all around us. All you have to do is stop, put down the phone, and open your eyes to what they have to offer. Let them become part of you, and your perspective will change.
You may just find yourself walking those pathways for no reason other than pleasure. And when you do, you've joined the ranks of the cemetery eidolons; the spirits who see all, love all, protect all, and encourage the world to open their eyes to the beauty of the world, even the ones hidden in the unlikeliest of places.
I hope you enjoyed this tour, and I look forward to seeing you on the next.
Much love to all.
Beautiful pillared monument.
And as I walked on down the small concrete footpath, I came upon a mausoleum I can't help but stop at every time I visit. It is so endearing, and here is why.
The structure itself is a masterpiece of stonework, and the doors are beautiful pieces of metal. The first time I ever visited this structure the doors were locked, but I was thankful there was glass behind the bars, allowing me to peek inside. It quickly became my favorite place.
A week ago, while my mom and I were visiting, I was rewarded with something amazing, and let me tell you, patience always pays off. On this day, the doors were unlocked, and I was able to step inside and get a picture of what my eyes had always seen, but my camera had never been able to capture.
The air inside was cool, but the smell was damp. It made me cough, but it was entirely worth it.
A husband and wife, ash boxes side by side in their final resting place, behind glass.
This makes my heart melt every time, and is, in my opinion, the sweetest memorial I have come across. I plan to lay flowers on my next visit.
Taking the left turn, I continued the walk while sipping on water and listening to music. Somehow, i found the perfect playlist that added to the serenity. I was finding myself at peace inside the walls and on the grounds. I was alone, but I wasn't afraid. My mind was clear, my stress was gone, and I was walking among the graves of people who helped to shape this world in their own small way, but also people who saw firsthand the tides of time change, whether it grew and prospered, who failed and started over. These people had seen it all, and it was a privilege to be there.
To this day, I consider this place my home away from home. It was a place that gave me comfort when I needed it, and a sanctuary that no one could disturb. To this day, I'm still drawn back to it, and could happily spend the day picnicking by the lake, or giving someone the same tour I gave myself all those years ago.
I came upon a small fenced in area with a statue of Jesus towering in the center. There was also a great metal bible propped open. Jesus's hands were outstretched as if welcoming the souls laid to rest, and it was such a wonderful sight that I was compelled to capture it. Now, just a warning for most, I'm a Pagan. I believe in many Gods and Goddesses, but when you see the photos, you might just understand why I had to take the pictures.
When I first visited, there were flowers in the hands, and it made it truly wonderful. I'm hoping to go back and replace the flowers that were probably blown away by the wind to make it as beautiful as it once was.
Then, it came time to visit my grandparents whose graves reside on the left hand side of the lake. I love coming to visit them, but it makes me sad.
Due to family rivalry, mainly between my father and his sisters, when my grandmother died in 2003, rather than bury her as was her final wishes, they had her cremated and kept the ashes. Because of the rules of the cemetery, unless the ashes or the body are buried, a death date can't be placed on the headstone. And because my aunt is the caretaker and, for lack of a better word, owner of the plots, we can't even make a request for one to be placed. It makes me sad to know that she isn't there, resting beside her husband, but I know she's watching over us, and that my aunts will pay dearly when they cross over and have to explain their actions. They played a very dirty game with all of us, and I know it will come back to bite them.
After saying my last goodbye's and telling them how much I loved them, I traversed a little further up the road and came to the resting place of the infants and children. It's almost heartbreaking to see so many young lives that had come and gone; some for only a few years, others day, but most, never having taken a breath. I grieve for these families, especially the ones with stillborn twins, or multiple children that were taken so early. I plan to start a GoFundMe to lay flowers on these graves. Some are so old that the parents are no longer living, and whatever family they did have is either deceased or no longer visit.
My aunt had her child buried out there, and hardly anyone knew of it until after her death. We now have another grave we visit to pay our love to on Memorial Day, and I feel honored to be doing it for my aunt.
As I was winding my visit to a close, I looked in the distance, and saw what appeared to be a steeple, and I wanted to see what it contained. I wanted to run up that slope, but with the heat of the day I wasn't going to risk getting sick or even wearing myself out. I still had to climb the hill to get back out, and then take the hill to go back home. It was well worth the wait it took to walk, and I documented the tribute to all the soldiers of war in stunning photography. More will be added on my next visit when mom and I, or whoever is with me, have more time just to drive or walk, and enjoy the day. I think the memorial is fitting and proper, and it makes my heart soar to know they will never be forgotten.
As I walked back up the slope, and found myself back at the gates, I had a renewed appreciation for the people that came before me. I wondered what lives they must have led, the things they must have seen, the people they came across, and where their loved ones were now, so many years after their death?
I found a place of solace, of peace and tranquility, and as I stepped back outside the black gates, heading back towards a home I didn't want to be in, that I dreaded returning to, I made a vow to return often, to show my gratitude for their lives and actions, and to show the world that cemeteries are not creepy, or strange, or even macabre. These places are where history comes to a close, and where we can honor those lives for the rest of ours. We are their story tellers, and the images captured give a glimpse into those worlds. They show that beauty is all around us. All you have to do is stop, put down the phone, and open your eyes to what they have to offer. Let them become part of you, and your perspective will change.
You may just find yourself walking those pathways for no reason other than pleasure. And when you do, you've joined the ranks of the cemetery eidolons; the spirits who see all, love all, protect all, and encourage the world to open their eyes to the beauty of the world, even the ones hidden in the unlikeliest of places.
I hope you enjoyed this tour, and I look forward to seeing you on the next.
Much love to all.
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