Thursday, July 12, 2007

A Park Bench Tribute

Summertime, and the living is easy.....

Most days my dog Stella and I complete our mile and a quarter walk through the park, around the lake, among the ducks, beneath the towering pines, and in between signs of nature and new life everywhere.

We usually take a small break, where I sit at one of the benches placed here and there, sometimes to allow me to write or sketch, and sometimes to catch my breath and just relax.

Each of the benches has a small gold plaque on it, dedicated to someone by someone. This week I sat at the benches of:

Sophie Yankowski
May 15, 1910--November 2, 1990
&
John Kneisl 1909-2000
"DON'T TAKE ANY WOODEN NICKELS"
Astrid R. Kneisl 1919-1994
"AWAY IS GOOD--HOME IS BEST"
.
It wasn't long before I found myself talking to Sophie:
.

Who were you, Sophie Yankowski? With that name, you might have been Barbra Streisand's aunt in Funny Girl. Were you Polish? Jewish? You were born under the sign of Scorpio--did you forgive but never forget? Were you a Yankee baseball fan? Did you cook Sunday dinners for your family? Corn beef and cabbage? Pot Roast? Was it hard that you died just before Thanksgiving--did you hold out as long as you could or were you ready to go? Did you have grandchildren, favorites? Do you know your bench overlooks a small lake that glitters like glass on a sun-filled day?
.
And John and Astrid:
.
Did you give that corny advice about wooden nickels all the time, John? Did your children roll their eyes? Were you still cracking jokes at 91? Were you home, or in a nursing home? Did you know hard times before you found peace? Did you find peace? How did you meet Astrid, John? Did you love her right away? She was your wife, right?
.
And Astrid, what did your kitchen look like? Did you cover your furniture? Were you the quiet voice behind John's chatter? Did you attend college, with a smart name like Astrid? Who loved you so much they made sure you and John had this bench, perfectly situated under such a beautiful tree just in front of the fountain?
.
There was a time when I just didn't understand that old people and dead people were once young and alive people. Somewhere along the line they've become less flat cardboard and more three-dimensional. So sometimes I come across photographs of people who've died a hundred years ago and I ask these same questions. I ask them because I know their lives were rich and vibrant like my own. I'm glad I know this.
.
I ask these questions and smile at the possible answers because I know I will die someday and someone will have loved me enough to put my name on a park bench, or affectionately retell the story of my grandson calling me "NoName" because it was the best I could come up with at the time.
.
It's a precious life. There's no better time than now to know that.
.




10 comments:

  1. Lovely photos, wonderful spot, gives me an idea to get away from the computer and go see some trees. I also wonder about those gone before, even ones I did know, because there is so much that is 'unknowable' about each of us.

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  2. Your Here and 'Now' was wonderful KJ! What's it like right 'Now'?

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  3. You should never talk to strangers!

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  4. lavender, thank you. gotta have trees. and yes, the 'unknowable' and special details about each of us fascinates me too.

    anon, what's it like right now?? ha! great question! once for a whole summmer when someone asked me for the time, i would say, "why...the time is now". then we would have a laugh.

    ces, oh geez. you are my beloved incorrigible best friend.

    sophie, ok, i neglected to mention you were on broadway in 1946. ok.ok. sorry!

    astrid, you traveled how many times a year? wow.

    john, zzzzzzzz.

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  5. Great post, KJ! A friend of mine thought I was nuts when I spent one of my birthdays hanging out in an old cemetery reading all the stones. I love the stories that grave stones tell, the really old ones. Especially in New England -- it's like suddenly the people are standing there with you telling their life to you. Beautiful photos, too!

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  6. and the cotton is high.

    Hey, this guy knows his classics, Porgy and Bess, Gerschwin, terrific!

    Do you need physical evidence to be reminded by?
    I think of my departed mother nearly every day, she was taken from me back in 2001.
    And I must admit: I stopped going to the cemetary back in 2004, I guess I didn't need to go and put flowers on a grave anymore. I have my memories, and they are not all bad.

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  7. melissa, sometimes it seems like the person's energy is coming right out of those headstones. cemeteries are sacred places.

    pieterbie, i've lost my dad. and friends. I know what you mean: the memories are part of who we are and how we live. pieterbie, you really are a doll.

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  8. You and me -- what fun we'd have in graveyards together. When we moved here 9 years ago I started taking my dog to the local small cemetery. I often saw his family at the grave of Jacob Barnes, age 7, gone for a year or two. He has a lovely grave and I always visited it and often talked to it because my oldest son was about the same age at that time as Jacob was when he died. Eventually I quit seeing his family but there were always fresh flowers and it was always swept clean. Now it's neglected, faded, and my "now" dog requires far more exercise than Zoe used to need so we rarely visit. But I always stop to chat when we do.

    Hope your stings and cuts heal post-haste!!

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  9. andrea, we would have to bring lunch to the graveyards. and maybe a small blanket.

    somehow i think you will be in new england one day....

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  10. And that was just the point of those little plaques - they keep those people around if only in your inaginings. Lovely post.

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