Locked Holy Doors and Worn Tombstones

Dear Friends,
This afternoon the giant husband and I did some weekend running around. On the way home, we passed by a lovely old, shingle-sided church.

pres signBy appearances, it hadn’t held a congregation in quite some time. The front door was locked and bolted – a sad sight for a house where one is supposed to find solace and prayer. The building might even be for sale – sadder still…

door lockedAdjoining this historic structure was an old graveyard.

cem side shot Many of the stones, some going back to the 1700’s, had served hard time. Some had sprouted lichens.

lichensStill others surfaces were so worn the names and dates were no longer readable.

brown lichensSome stones rested on one another for support, clinging to the last vestiges of their earthen anchors.

3 overThere was a beautiful tree, its powerful branches watching over and protecting its wards.

tree & stonesIt continues cherishing thousands of secrets and keeping whispers safe.

tree with monuOver the years, I’ve passed by many houses of worship. Their doors locked when services are not underway. I’ve passed by ancient cemeteries too, some a bit neglected.
In times of real need, we alone must bow our heads to dream of hope, pray for peace and hold onto our loved ones as long as possible on this earth…

vwThis post is dedicated to Phyllis Rose who lost her battle with cancer on Friday night. My mom told me of Phyllis’s passing. She was 53. I hadn’t seen Phyllis Rose since I was in my teens. On Friday night, I was worrying about getting the grocery shopping done…life is…
Thank you and goodnight. May your dreams be peaceful and your wishes all come true…

(Sketched the day of this post. This is my handsome nephew, VW. Image inspired by my sister Dolores’s photo)

 

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17 thoughts on “Locked Holy Doors and Worn Tombstones

  1. Not too many years ago the doors to our church sanctuary remained unlocked 24/7. Often if a parishioner sought solace in the middle of the night, the quiet snoring of homeless people could be heard echoing in the silence. Then time and the community changed, and the middle-of-the-night visitors were vandals. Now the doors are locked once services have ended…a sad loss to everyone. – Fawn

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    • I know it’s not quite right. I think places of worship – the sources of comfort for many when life is too much – locking their doors is equal to locking out a little hope in some respects. When I turned 16, I stopped attending Mass, but I remember more than a few times walking by a church thinking I’d like to stop in then seeing the big lock on the welcome doors. Sorry about your lovely sanctuary, too…
      AnnMarie 🙂

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  2. You’ve got done major artistic abilities there, AnnMarie.

    You must live back east, because out west here we haven’t been putting up tombstones for that long. And the geological term for what is happening to those tombstones is called “creep”. And I’m not being facetious. The earth is constantly in motion and crooked tombstones are brilliant, if not a little morbid, example of it.

    Gee, that kinda sounds like a school lecture. Can you tell I wanted to be a geologist?

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    • Thank you , Glenda.
      I’m a New Yorker – (the country kind not the city). If you’re left on the map, you’re west, I’m east 😉
      Oh, creep, now that’s creepy and perfect. So go the shifting sands of time…
      I wouldn’t have pegged you for a geologist, but now that you’ve mentioned it…
      AnnMarie 🙂

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  3. Hi Loved one, I am here…VW is magnificent…talk to you soon, Love, Mom…also wish I could have more scientific brain matter…once, a long time ago I may have had it but was not encouraged to think like Madam Curie…

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    • AH, thank you for rereading – aren’t you kind. Yes, I do feel so very fortunate and blessed to have my folks at this stage of the game and that they’re in good health… I’m sorry your mom is no longer with you – but I’m sure you feel her nearby…and her memories make you smile…
      AnnMarie 🙂

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