A Southern Cemetery

I've posted some more photos; these were taken in a small town cemetery during the annual trip to Fernandina, Florida. We (meaning my sisters and myself) have taken this week-long trip every year since the youngest of us turned 21 (more than ten years now) to escape the wonderful coolness of the mountains and bake in the Southern Steam Oven for a week. Fortunately, mudslides, margaritas and martinis help take the edge off the heat.

But, thinking about cemeteries, I can't help but remark on how much they've changed over the years from the skeletal heads that grimaced from the early tombstones of America to beautiful statues of angels and lambs and cherubs to flat markers with silk flowers. For quite awhile, we used to joke as we passed the latter type of cemetery, "Oh, so that's where they grow silk flowers."

Today, in cemeteries that encompass the gamut from early to late model tombstones, a new wave of statuary seems to be cropping up. In this case, I am referring to the tiny little statues that now abound on graves. They can be animals (cute little rabbits, deer and chicks) or angels or even things that relate to the person buried there, like miniature soccer balls, pick up trucks, guitars, you name it.

I'm not making fun of this as I can see how doing this might help some people work through their grief, especially when it comes to losing a child. I just know that personally, I would not be able to sum up my daughter's life using garish silk flowers and tchotchkes. Nor would I want to be remembered that way.

My question is: How do these phenomenons get started? I guess it only takes one person and then it just expands exponentially. This also seemed to happen with the crosses on the side of the road to mark where someone had died in an automobile accident. It's almost like roadsides have become cemeteries.