Another photograph from the old cemetery on the North Fork. I don't know if the headstone is just cracked or if it was cemented back together. It looked as if it were two pieces at one time. To my right, and just outside of the frame, was a fallen stone. I did not want to get any closer for fear it might fall.
The bare trees and the lifeless lawn got me thinking about death and those forgotten. Is it the busyness of life, the generational separation of the years or some other reason a cemetery can end up looking so?
I am not innocent. I have not been diligent in visiting the brother I lost 46 years ago. I did not know Thomas, I was eight years old. He never was released from the hospital, he went straight home.
My parents decided to take this as a sign that life is precious, everyone born into this life should have a good home. They fostered a teenage girl, Gina, and later, a toddler, Antonio.
After a number of years, Tony went back to his other family, he keeps in touch. Gina graduated high school, left and we never heard from her again.Thomas, I do think of you. I wonder who you would have looked like, what you would have been. You spent such a short time on earth, but you spread so much love.