Tombstones
I have in my possession two deceptively simple little photographs. They were taken for me by his daughter and our father. I keep them carefully placed in my carved wooden jewelry box next to our grandmother’s silver earrings, my pearls and other treasures.
They show a place that I have never been, that I hope to someday go and to which I will forever have a connection.
The first photo shows an already snow covered sign post holding both a stop sign and a street sign that says “Smokey Boulder Rd”. The sky is a rolling dark steel gray but the pine trees still show some deep green through their bending snow tipped branches. Even though it has no people or buildings, it is a beautiful, stark picture of an almost natural setting. The thick trees of the forest, the light snow beginning to fall that signals the start of what will be a massive blizzard. Then the signs; a symbol of mankind’s appearance in this wild place.
On the back of this photo, it says “November 27, 2010, Little Salmon River, 9 miles from McCall, ID.”
The other photograph shows thick heavy snow now steadily falling down. The perspective is different here. It’s taken from alongside the nearly frozen river looking up at a long, low concrete bridge. Snow is swirling about in the photograph. Those same snow covered trees from the first photograph are in the background of this second photograp.
The back of this photograph is empty….
Both are quiet and on the surface, both look to be minimal, empty and cold. Yet they show a beautiful starkness, a landscape where a man who found little joy or peace in the company of other people found joy and peace in the company of trees and animals. A place where he felt he could be himself.
Two simple little photographs.
For me, they represent his life and they show his ending. They are my only connection to where his ashes are scattered, where his mind felt peace, where he was finally laid to rest.
My brothers tombstones.