One would think that almost twenty years after I saw you take your last breath,
I would be able to say more than these few words.
I hope you have found some peace.
I miss you.
Category Archives: Memories
Would You Lay With Me In A Field Of Flowers And Stone
St Genny's in Cornwall
While out on a drive yesterday, John took a detour and quite by accident we ended up at a place we might have never found had we not been up for a little adventure.
St Genny’s Church
Photo by John Winchurch
In a clear departure from my normal behavior, I did not take any photographs of the inside of St. Genny’s, but John got a nice one from the back center aisle.
I followed the path to the right of St Genny’s around the corner to see the surprise below.
Walking between the church and a stand of trees shading several rows of ornate gravestones, I stepped out into a place that took my breath away with the perfect beauty of all.
John had gone inside the church looking for me and after coming around the corner, caught up with me here on this hill.
He walked with a stride and purpose that I’ve seen before as he came straight up the hill to the place where I was standing. Reaching for me without saying a word, he kissed me with the kind of kiss that felt like a sweet benediction in what seemed like a holy place of rest. I thought nowhere could a woman feel more loved than I did then and we stood quietly together for another minute admiring the view from this field of flowers and stone.
As we turned to walk on I asked him if he’d seen a John and Elizabeth yet, because I know from experience now that there’s always a John and Elizabeth lying together in every churchyard we visit and no sooner did I finish the question then I saw two stones next to where he was standing. I smiled as I noticed that he happened to be standing in front of John the husband’s gravestone while I was closest to Elizabeth’s.
I would have photographed him where he stood, but sometimes I get a bit superstitious about photographing the living in a memorial for the dead. Except for wedding day photographs like ours below.
Elizabeth Harper & John Winchurch - Wedding Day - 2-2-2009
After seeing the graves of John and Elizabeth Marshall, we climbed to the top corner of the churchyard for a longer view …
… and noticed this sweet little bench tucked up near the wall.
It was a perfect place to sit and think.
There were wild flowers growing everywhere and not so much in the way of cut flowers,
… but I did find this tender message of love and memory on one grave.
It you’d like to know more about St Genny’s church, I found a wonderful blog post from a woman named Jan Windle who spent several days nearby and did some interesting research complete with detailed photographs. It’s well worth a look.
*Note that she speaks first about St Juliot, a church associated with Thomas Hardy before going on to St Genny’s.
Safety First
This is a photograph taken by a kind stranger in May of 2008. I had just returned to England from my home in America about a week earlier having … quit one job, said no thank you to an offer of another job from a law firm I had interviewed with for several months, rented my house out to strangers, sold off most of the lovely contents of my home and my car as well and packed myself off to the UK completely secure as I kissed my friends and family goodbye that I was on the right path for me.
Having only been to Cornwall once for two weeks when John and I met for the first a few months earlier, most of the people who loved me thought on some level that I had lost my mind. John and I had known each other only about four and a half months when this picture was taken. Looking back now if any of my friends had made so many major changes for love, I would have thought they were a bit nuts too. If you’ve followed our story for very long, then you know it has all worked out so well that it feels as if it was all just meant to be.
A few things have changed since the picture above was taken, we’ve been married for over a year, and since that first bike ride we’ve had change in attitude with regard to safety when cycling on the Camel Trail. Even though most of our bike riding is confined to car free, easy bike trails where one might feel safe enough as we did back then to ride without a helmet, today when we go out for a ride along the same path we’ll be wearing some protective headgear.
This shift in our cycling attire has a great deal to do with our recognition of how special what we have is and our desire to safeguard it right down to protecting our physical bodies from harm. The realization of just how fragile our lives really are can supercede quite a lot including the discomfort of a helmet when it comes to protecting life and love. In the pictures below, notice in the first one John’s headgear and in the second, my helmet hair after we stopped along the way to take a photograph on Helland Bridge, a place that will always be special to us both.
The Camel Trail
John & Elizabeth – Helland Bridge
A Few Spoken Words From Elizabeth Harper
Have you ever wondered what some of the bloggers you read regularly actually sound like? Do you hear a particular voice in your head when you read my posts?
Not long ago two things happened that made me think I might like to share my voice with you and I’m hoping that you might feel inclined to do the same. Mariellen Romer and I exchanged a couple of emails where the topic of tea came up, sweet tea in particular, and cold, the way southerners where I’m from in Georgia tend to like to drink it.
She said this reminded her that I was a Georgia native by birth and as such, my spoken voice might sound a bit different from the one she heard in her head when reading my blog. Additionally, there was a post by Jennifer Trinkle written for a contest on NPR called Three-Minute Fiction that asked for submissions which could be read in three minutes and prompted me to want to give the three-minute thing a try for fun.
The piece you can hear below is not fiction and is something I wrote a few years ago based on an actual event. It’s also a tiny bit longer than three minutes clocking in at 3:03.
Have a listen below and tell me … does my voice fit the one you hear in your head?
Summertime Rocks Using Dandelion Clocks
After a week with Jersey Girl, I can almost tell what she’s thinking before she makes a move and I know whenever a dandelion is in sight, she is going to want to check the time. I never knew about dandelion clocks until she taught me last spring during my first visit to Jersey.
Notice the look … hmm … I wonder what time it is.
Carefully … she picks the clock.
Then giving it a few puffs of air …
She counts what’s left …
Sadly, it looks as if our time is up.
Boris The Bear Tells Himself A Story
In the window at home there’s a sweet little bear,
slightly tattered, not torn, but missing some hair.
He sits kind of floppy, and propped with a view,
watching and waiting and thinking of you.
A bear you can see by his worn looking face
that’s been treasured and favored
with his own special place.
Loved from the beginning,
he’s been very well fed
on the dreams of girl
and all the things in her head.
He’s enjoyed the all pleasures of years
two, three, four, five, and soon six,
he’s her favorite he knows,
the one she always picks.
But today is somehow different,
someone’s taken his place,
it’s that silly old Pooh Bear who’s crowding his space.
Beside his dear girl as she goes for the day
he wonders what they’re up to
missing her greatly
in his bear sort of way.
Growing up can be scary for a bear on his own
he’s been a faithful companion and rarely alone.
He sits and he watches and wishes she’d phone.
‘ I am here and I miss you,’ is just what he’d say,
‘ Will you be home soon, are you on your way? ‘
He knows it’s silly to be sad and so blue
as her little girl heart can love much more
than a old bear or two.
One day when she’s older
with hair that’s gone grey
she’ll have trouble remembering
things like his name,
when she got him,
or the games that they played.
He’s heard all the stories
from bears on the street
when the children aren’t looking
and they’ve a moment to speak.
They whisper in passing
of changes to come,
but for now he’s still Boris,
and her number one.
Yesterday after a long day out, I noticed Jersey Girl’s favorite bear Boris sitting in the window. He’d been left there in the morning by JG posed on the window ledge so that he could see outside while she was out exploring with us. I was lucky to see him when I did managing to get two quick shots before she grabbed him up to join us at the table for dinner. She didn’t know I was outside taking pictures and in the second photograph, you can just make out her ear and the side of her face as she is reaching for him.
I began the little bear story this morning and what came out has as much to do with my relationship with an old stuffed bunny from my childhood as it does with Jersey Girl and Boris, her bear. This is one of the things I love most about writing, you begin a story thinking it is about one thing and suddenly another story begins to reveal itself along the way.
I would be interested to know if you remember a favorite toy or stuffed animal and can you remember its name ?
Memorial Day – Because Sometimes We Forget
Captain Eleanor Grace Alexander died on November 30 1967 in a plane crash in Binh Dinh, South Vietnam. I did not know anything about her until I made a point to find out who she was and how she died after seeing her name at the Vietnam War Memorial Wall. Eleanor Grace Alexander was one of eight active duty women who died during that war. She was 27 and unmarried.
Born the same year as my mother she would have been 70 on September 18 had she survived. Having read first hand accounts from people who knew her and several who served with her including Rhona Marie Knox Prescott who wrote this moving letter which is part of the Veteran’s History Project in the Library of Congress, I am grateful there was a record so that some of my questions could be answered.
As an American child of the sixties, it was the Vietnam War that was the backdrop of my daily life with body counts and war updates delivered each night by men like Walter Cronkite of CBS news. Sadly we are still at war, still fighting, and still burying the dead. Although we do battle in different countries now, the result is the still the same for many and unless your life has been touched directly by loss it can be easy to forget why we recognize Memorial Day, why it’s more than a precursor to summer fun and pool side parties. I’m guilty of forgetting in the past, of treating the three-day weekend that leads into Memorial Day as a much needed respite from a too full life. What I hope to never forget is that I’ve had a chance to live the life I have thanks in part to men and women who died in wars long before I was born.
I plan to take a few minutes today to think about Eleanor Grace Alexander and my great uncle, Hugh Lee Stephens who died in WWII.
Is there someone today that you need to remember … I only ask because I know from experience that sometimes without meaning to, we forget.
Budding Director Captures The Moment
Look closely at the image below and you should be able to see two figures in the distance, one in red and one in blue. If you can’t see them, click on the image to make it larger and if after that you still can’t see them, go get your glasses and give it another try.
Okay, now for the brief backstory … John and I took Jersey Girl down to the river today so I could decide where to hide the clues for my treasure hunt on Wednesday. As I was taking pictures of hiding places and counting off paces and writing down the details needed for creating a treasure map, I happened to look up and notice that in the distance there was something happening that looked kind of interesting. So I snapped a series of photographs that after viewing I just had to share.
When we first walked through the meadow, I tried to teach JG how to hold a blade of grass between her thumbs and blow on to make a series of bird sounds. After working our way through multiple blades of grass with little success, we decided to try again later. When I saw JG with John’s video camera in hand, I knew that John was probably putting the lesson on tape.
Seeing him lift his hands up and hearing him make a few sounds that sounded a bit like a squawk confirmed what I had been thinking and I was glad that I had managed to catch their cute interaction if only from a distance.
The shot below was the one I couldn’t see clearly due to the distance, but by some bit of luck I managed to snap the image of a little budding director giving her granddad the thumbs up sign signaling a successful capture.
I can almost hear her saying, ” Got it, well done, Bapa. “
While the pictures above make me chuckle at the easy confident interaction I’ve witnessed many times between them, it’s the one below that makes my heart feel tender. I haven’t see the video JG made of her Bapa today, but from the look on their faces while reviewing the footage, I think it will certainly be something to remember.
Distractions – Bright & Beautiful
When bright flowers bloom
Parchment crumbles, my words fade
The pen has dropped …
~ Morpheus
I make deals with myself sometimes … with the life long experience of a master negotiator, I have whole, silent, in my head conversations that frequently begin with something like this, if you do this for the next three hours, then you can …
Today is one of those days.
Had I Known You Were Coming, I Would Have Baked A Cake
Atlanta – December – 2006
That’s me in the cell phone picture above, wearing a borrowed apron while presenting the first cake I ever made from scratch to my guests at a Christmas party in Atlanta. Judging from that smile and what I remember, I was clearly giddy with delight at how well it turned out. Yesterday was a day like that for me too. After clicking publish on yesterday’s post, I checked a few blogs that I read regularly and went out for a run that quickly turned into more of a brisk walk due to a pulled back muscle.
Imagine my surprise when I realized on my return that my blog had been selected by Joy, an editor at WordPress, as one of eleven blogs to be showcased on the Freshly Pressed site for WordPress.com. It is always special to receive recognition, whether it’s a group of your friends with an appreciative sweet tooth eating up your first apple cake or a group of strangers who show up all at once to see what’s shaking at your place … support like that can quickly make a girl go all giggly and Sally Field-ish.
It was great fun to see your comments and watch my sitemeter numbers go up throughout the day and although they didn’t climb quite as high as they did when Pioneer Woman sent all her friends over for a visit, it was pretty exciting on its own.
Thanks to everyone who took time yesterday to leave a comment and say hello. I haven’t made it around to all of your sites yet, but if you have one, I’ll be by later today and if you happen to be feeling like serving a little snack, I’d love a cup of coffee and a piece of cake.
In case you don’t have a good cake recipe of your own, I’m happy to share my favorite from Carole Clements, The Cooks Handbook.
Gifts Of The Journey 