a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Saturday, October 29, 2016

Flat Rock Cemetery

Hubby worked on the county road system and emergency management for years.  Last Wednesday he shared an old cemetery with me he knew I did not know.

The first thing I imagined was the horses used to pull these large stones into place for the steps front and back.  The second thing I noticed was the sound of pigeons in the bell tower.  Every thing eventually goes back to nature.
It's good to see that people try to preserve history here.  I noticed the hand quarried stones in the foundation and was saddened by the poor shape of the building.  I wondered how much longer people would care.
 There were stones so old they almost could not be read.
I was reminded how rough life was during these times when I discovered these stones.
One child that lived and the mother did not live to see her baby grow up.
Such a lost I can't even begin to fathom.
Two days after her last birth/death the mother died.
Puts things into prospective.
Life has improved.
We are truly blessed to not know this sorrow.

I appreciated the history Hubby shared 
but I left with an ache in my heart for those gone before me.

21 comments:

Suzanne McClendon said...

I understand what you mean. It makes me cry just thinking of all that was endured...so very many losses. How many is any one mama supposed to endure before she succumbs herself?

My husband's mama's paternal grandmother was in her early 20s when she had her first -and only - child. She died from complications of childbirth, too, but not until he was about 8 months old. This baby grew up with a step-mother that apparently cherished him and the future grandchildren. They didn't know there had been another before her.

David's biological great-grandmother preys heavy on my heart. So young, so much life ahead of her...and didn't get to live it. Her son grew up without her, not knowing that he was growing up without her. That is so very sad.

There is a section of a cemetery back home in South Carolina that is called "Baby Hill"...rows and rows of babies. Some of them I can figure what happened...they were born and/or died during the pandemic of the late 19teens. Some of them you have to wonder what happened to make one mother lose so many and how she ever endured emotionally conceiving another. How much fear she must have had with each successive pregnancy and loss.

I don't have answers to most of my questions on these things, but I do know one thing without a shadow of doubt...those babies are in Heaven where nothing bad can ever get to them. They are with Jesus, no more sickness, no more sorrow, no more pain.

Thank you for sharing this post with us here. It is a reminder to hold onto and love those around us. We don't know when we'll be called to say good-bye.

Have a blessed weekend.

Sandra said...

I love to wander in old cemeteries especially when in a church yard. we have many ancestors in the old Methodist church yard in GA outside Reidsville. this is a sad story and touches my heart. life was so hard back then. all those babies and then she dies when the one that was 2 years old.. thanks for sharing. we need to honor these people as fond memories of how our country became what it is.. the saddest thing in the cemetery our family is in, outside the short fence that encloses the graves, there is a tiny cross on a tiny grave. when I asked daddy why when I was about 8 years old, he said because he had a black daddy he could not be in the cemetery. I got so mad I was stomping around fussing about that baby. I said lets move it inside the fence. of course we did not.

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

Sad only one child made it. Times were rough back then. We're blessed with the advancements in technology and medicine. Not to mention transportation, which is sometimes the difference between life and death.

Ginny Hartzler said...

Such a sorrowful place. I like walking in cemeteries. They are peaceful, and you can learn quite a bit of history. So is this building what is left of the little church? And this would be the church cemetery. Until not too long ago, there were no public cemeteries. So many babies died back then.

TexWisGirl said...

you are connected to the land and those who have gone before.

only slightly confused said...

As we wander the cemeteries around here it is so common to see one large stone with "the children of" engraved on it and names listed below. Tough times indeed.

Lynne said...

We cannot know what they endured . . .
Sad very . . . yet I am touched by the resilience they must have been . . .
We cannot imagine . . .
I like to search out cemeteries . . .
All over the world . . . the history . . . sorrow . . . love . . . faith . . .
Is very real.
Excellent reflective post Gail . . .
Thanks Den . . .

Plowing Through Life (Martha) said...

We are very fortunate how much easier some things have become. Life was rough in the past. I enjoy visiting and walking through cemeteries. There are a lot of stories in them. And those tombstones of infants and children are heartbreaking.

Josie Two Shoes said...

There is a similar cemetery adjoining a now vanished ghost town about an hour's drive from here. Papa Bear and I like to stop and visit when we pass by. There too, we see multiple family members all dying very young, and it breaks my heart for those mothers and fathers, many of whom also died quite young by today's standards. We really have no concept of how hard their lives were, and how easy ours are by comparison. We have much to be grateful for.

Optimistic Existentialist said...

Oh wow those engraved dates really do illustrate how rough life was during those times...

Karen S. said...

I know just how you feel, although sometimes I think especially when visiting my loved ones, that they are looking down happy to see that we've stopped by to remember them, or meet them. So many lost, so many stories to uncover on those visits. Your hubby was sweet to share this with you, (very cool too) and you sharing it with us. Thanks!

Lowcarb team member said...

When we look back it doesn't seem to matter what country we live in, times back then were hard.
Life has indeed moved on and we hope we learn and take things from our ancestors to improve things for future generations.

There is always something humbling when you walk carefully around a cemetery.

I enjoyed your thoughtful and reflective post, thank you.

All the best Jan

Sketching with Dogs said...

It must have been fascinating to visit that old church and cemetery.
So sad to see their lives cut short back in those days. We have an old cemetery near us with lots of headstones similar to those.
Lynne x

Sketching with Dogs said...

PS,
I'm sure Cricket has grown every day when I get up!
It is a bit scary when you are only used to chihuahuas.

Arkansas Patti said...

Old cemeteries are filled with untold stories. It always breaks my heart to see where children never made it to a year old or died at birth. We need to see things like that to appreciate how lucky we are.

gld said...

I hate to see those old cemeteries and buildings lost.We are having the same problems with some of the smaller country cemeteries people are still using. A board member told me he didn't know what would become of them when people of our generation were gone. He said even his own children no longer came on Memorial Day.

So many family members died of the flu epidemic of 1918-1919. There are headstones showing the loss of all the children with days of each other. I don't know how they survived the pain.

CountryMum said...

Oh how very sad and tragic. We have life so good now, yet we probably don't appreciate it how good we have it.

Empty Nester said...

There are some tales similar in the cemetery where my in-laws are buried. My FIL's mother had 10 children and only 2 lived. But there's a red flag story in the tale. I may have to share it on the blog one day. I love to visit cemeteries and imagine the stories. But only during the day.

The Furry Gnome said...

Sure does!

LindaG said...

Wonderful post, Gail. Thank you for sharing.
God bless you all.

McGuffy Ann Morris said...

There is a reverence, a deep respect associated with cemeteries, especially the old farm and settler ones. There are a few around here, but one in particular. I visit it ever now and then. I have written poems about it and its people. Two are on my Poetry Page: "English Praire", and "Henry".
Gail, this is another adventure we need to share.

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