Stella L. Obeshaw

Member for
10 years · 6 months · 29 days
Find A Grave ID
46939614

Bio

I take Find-a-Grave seriously, I go over and over my written records to make sure it is correct, but, I am getting into my mid-70's, so if you find a mistake, leave me a message,please. Also,I am willing to transfer if this soul is not my ancestor or a close personal friend.

THE RECORDING OF A CEMETERY 
Today we walked where others walked on a lonely, windswept hill; Today we talked where other cried for Loved ones whose lives are stilled.Today our hearts were touched by graves of tiny babies;snatched from the arms of loving kin, in the heartbreak of the ages.Today we saw where the grandparents lay in the last sleep of their time;lying under the trees and clouds - Their beds kissed by the sun and wind. Today we wondered about an unmarked spot; Who lies beneath this hollowed ground? Was it a babe, child, young or old? No indication could be found.Today we saw where Mom and Dad lay. We had been here once before on a day we'd all like to forget,but will remember forever more. Today we recorded for kith and kin. The graves of ancestors past; To be preserved for generations hence, A record we hope will last. Cherish it, my friend; preserve it, my friend, For stones sometimes crumble to dust and generations of folks yet to come Will be grateful for your trust.

(also my favorite poem)

THE CEMETERY PHOTOGRAPHER
Wandering among the stones I see the stones so weathered and worn ‘Tis difficult to find the date on which the babe was born. I stare at the stone and am struck with awe.At the life that I knew was gone, this was someone's child, a babe so sweet with loved ones to carry on. So I take a photo for all to see for the family that remains an everlasting memory of a child of God's domain. I brush the weeds back from the stone and say a silent prayer for the babes that had no chance to live and for mothers everywhere.The dove calls out it's mourning song among the stones so still echoes of the woes, through time.The choirs of despair.The stone will someday perish, the flowers will be gone, but a photo now remains of this, their memory lives on. And so my friend, don't hesitate to film the weathered stone. Those who live within our hearts are never truly gone.

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