{"id":8460,"date":"2019-02-21T12:30:06","date_gmt":"2019-02-21T18:30:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bestofswla.com\/?p=8460"},"modified":"2019-02-21T12:23:31","modified_gmt":"2019-02-21T18:23:31","slug":"a-birthday-gift-of-perspective","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bestofswla.com\/2019\/02\/21\/a-birthday-gift-of-perspective\/","title":{"rendered":"A Birthday Gift Of Perspective"},"content":{"rendered":"

I went to the cemetery on my birthday.\u00a0 <\/span>(As first sentences go\u2026)\u00a0 <\/span>It was a red cheek day in January, full sunny, a north breeze slowed by trees, speeding up once it got into the open ground of grass \u2018n graves. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Dad and I used to come 3 or 4 times a year, now that he\u2019s residential I still come, about as often.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

My little brother. I don\u2019t know his name. He never got a day. I\u2019ve had decades. If that doesn\u2019t put a bend in my knee, shame on me. You\u2019re one of my Whys?… Faith says we meet.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

He\u2019s there next to Mom, been there since January of \u201915.\u00a0 <\/span>No, I don\u2019t bring flowers, or tote along a lawn chair to sit and visit with the echo of him.\u00a0 <\/span>I do to him like he did to his father, buried a few graves to the north, stand there, emit respect and gratitude, but knowing it\u2019s all symbolic.\u00a0 <\/span>The grave is like a post office box, the actual residence is elsewhere.<\/p>\n

Cemeteries church me.\u00a0 <\/span>All this humanity, knowns and strangers, all their years of years, ended.\u00a0 <\/span>There I was, birthday boy, the only one vertical, thinking who-am-I, to have this gift Ever, and Still\u2026<\/p>\n

The red hot center of Christianity is the death of Death, where our guy, Jesus, defeats it.\u00a0 <\/span>Easter is just a story when you\u2019re a kid, like David and Goliath, but you start piling up some life decades, bury all your childhood VIP\u2019s, and death starts to cast a serious shadow.<\/p>\n

I tried to pray, couldn\u2019t form a word.\u00a0 <\/span>Walking works for me, so I walked.\u00a0 <\/span>Rows and rows, the old, the very old, the new, and the ones so new that you can almost hear the heartbreak. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Walking among the graves of strangers, I see our common faith.\u00a0 <\/span>Jules Marcenac 1857-1920, married to Adeline, his grave says, \u201cAsleep till Jesus comes.\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>On another row, Zilpha Lewis, 1875-1964, \u201cResting til the resurrection morn.\u201d<\/p>\n

Headstones Are Our Shortest Obituary<\/strong><\/p>\n

There\u2019s my great uncle Todose, died the year I was born.\u00a0 <\/span>There\u2019s great uncle Orase, born 1896, \u201cChrist is my hope.\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>His wife, Aunt Ava, was born in 1900.\u00a0 <\/span>Lived to age 104.\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cGone home,\u201d it says\u2026<\/p>\n

Name, date, dash, date, very little else.\u00a0 <\/span>I found it honorable, and curious, that men who lived many decades as civilians, felt so greatly about their few years in the military, that it made the cut, for defining who they were.\u00a0 <\/span>Here lies, Curtis Langley, Marines, and he\u2019s buried near Norman Langley, Navy, Korea.\u00a0 <\/span>A few rows away, Clarence Handley Cpl Sup Co 3 Infantry WWI.<\/p>\n

One of my favorite headstones was of Ronald Simonds 1947-2008.\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cHusband, father,\u201d and this beauty, \u201cand the father he didn\u2019t have to be.\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>Vietnam.\u00a0 <\/span>Bronze star with valor, Purple Heart.\u00a0 <\/span>Sounds like someone I\u2019d like to make the acquaintance of in heaven. \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

They Don\u2019t Name \u2018Em Like We Used To<\/strong><\/p>\n

We make fun of parents inventing names for children these days.\u00a0 <\/span>It seems so\u2026 but walking through a cemetery will modify your thinking.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s Eula Mae, buried near Bessie Mae, a little over from Myrtle, just a row off from Verda.\u00a0 <\/span>There\u2019s a Domelius. Maybe that was in the Baby Name Book in 1877.<\/p>\n

We all know the origin of last names.\u00a0 <\/span>Shepherds were shepherds, Farmers were farmers.\u00a0 <\/span>Since we\u2019ve all been around since Noah, you\u2019d think that every family would\u2019ve been last name claimed for a 1000 years, but here we have some Cottongins, linked by occupation to Eli Whitney\u2019s contraption of the late 1700\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Proving that it doesn\u2019t take long to make a misspelling legal, side by side are Cottongins and Cottongims\u2026<\/p>\n

The Stuff-Left-At Graves \u00a0<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

I\u2019ve been coming to this cemetery a long time.\u00a0 <\/span>I have categories.\u00a0 <\/span>There\u2019s the one-after-the-other headstones, the wife dies first, and the husband soon follows.\u00a0 <\/span>Almost never the other way around.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s the stuff-left-at graves.\u00a0 <\/span>There\u2019s this one, his visitors leave cans of Busch beer.\u00a0 <\/span>Another one, a young guy, got a feeling about this one, his friends leave behind fishing lures\u2026<\/p>\n

New graves have flowers.\u00a0 <\/span>The old graves have none.\u00a0 <\/span>Sooner or later, they all end up being old graves\u2026<\/p>\n

There\u2019s a certain patina that merits respect.\u00a0 <\/span>Nature claims.\u00a0 <\/span>Some of these, I can read a little but not all.<\/p>\n

Baby graves get me.\u00a0 <\/span>There\u2019s a Flossie Langley, born in January of 1917, died in September of 1917.\u00a0 <\/span>I paused at hers, wondering, wondering\u2026<\/p>\n

I have a baby brother buried on the north side of my mother.\u00a0 <\/span>The burial service over, my parents in the black of pain, little me stayed behind with my uncle, and some other men, to shovel cover the grave.\u00a0 <\/span>He told me, decades later, that I picked up a tiny handful of dirt, and told the men that I wanted to help cover \u201cmy little brother.\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>His Adam\u2019s apple bobbed when he told me this.\u00a0 <\/span>It got quiet for a while.<\/p>\n

The Wick Of Life<\/strong><\/p>\n

When I was young I thought I was owed my life.\u00a0 <\/span>Living has changed that.\u00a0 <\/span>Now on birthdays I feel humble, secretive, lest a fuss be made.\u00a0 <\/span>To have Ever Been makes my heart blink.\u00a0 <\/span>To still Remain makes my eyes moist. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe that\u2019s why I\u2019m here, to appreciate the lit wick of life, acknowledging that the wick always reaches its end.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019m not here to be sad, but to be accurate.\u00a0 <\/span>I feel healthy when I feel gratitude, I feel correct, when I feel humility towards the gift of life.<\/p>\n

In my 20\u2019s, that decade of the illusion of Being-In-Your-Prime, I gave atheism a go.\u00a0 <\/span>In my 60\u2019s, I cannot imagine facing death with nothing but little me, and nothing bigger.<\/p>\n

My first funeral was a family puppy, buried in a shoe box.\u00a0 <\/span>The stick headstone fell, the grass grew, the spot was lost.\u00a0 <\/span>At this cemetery are graves that sink, with names you can\u2019t read. \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

God seems large and Larger.\u00a0 <\/span>Everybody buried here has a Why? for God, and in death we bring our Why?s with us, unanswered, but with hope, that God must be God, promises must be kept.\u00a0 <\/span>Here we wait, we uneven, we imperfect, we dependent, we wait for the Make Right, \u201cAnd God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.\u201d<\/p>\n

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This edition of Uncle P\u2019s Bedtime Stories is brought to you by Eighty-one, where we prefer perspective over cake. \u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Uncle P\u2019s Bedtime Stories in book form can be purchased at Eighty-one, 3507 Ryan, Lake Charles.\u00a0 <\/span>More stories can be found on Eighty-one\u2019s Facebook page.\u00a0 <\/span>Uncle P can be reached at 81creativity@gmail.com.<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I went to the cemetery on my birthday.\u00a0 (As first sentences go\u2026)\u00a0 It was a red cheek day in January, full sunny, a north breeze slowed by trees, speeding up once it got into the open ground of grass \u2018n graves. \u00a0 Dad and I used to come 3 or 4 times a year, now [&hellip<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":15,"featured_media":279,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[58],"tags":[59,894],"yoast_head":"\nA Birthday Gift Of Perspective - BestOfSwla<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/bestofswla.com\/2019\/02\/21\/a-birthday-gift-of-perspective\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"A Birthday Gift Of Perspective - BestOfSwla\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"I went to the cemetery on my birthday.\u00a0 (As first sentences go\u2026)\u00a0 It was a red cheek day in January, full sunny, a north breeze slowed by trees, speeding up once it got into the open ground of grass \u2018n graves. \u00a0 Dad and I used to come 3 or 4 times a year, now [&hellip\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/bestofswla.com\/2019\/02\/21\/a-birthday-gift-of-perspective\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"BestOfSwla\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/bestofswla\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2019-02-21T18:30:06+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2019-02-21T18:23:31+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/bestofswla.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/09\/uncle-p-inet.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"610\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"250\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Pierre Fontenot\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Pierre Fontenot\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"6 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/bestofswla.com\/2019\/02\/21\/a-birthday-gift-of-perspective\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/bestofswla.com\/2019\/02\/21\/a-birthday-gift-of-perspective\/\",\"name\":\"A Birthday Gift Of Perspective - 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