On the 24 of May, of this year, my Wife's' Uncle George passed away. Those of you reading my postings surely remember I wrote several blogs about him. He lived on Webster Street in the city of Baltimore for most of his adult life. He purchased a " row " home as they are called and in keeping with the tradition in Baltimore it has marble steps. Those marble steps where a sense of pride to the owners and it was no exception with Uncle George. In the years that I knew him personally his eyesight was failing and so he didn't notice the steps as much. I can recall cleaning them, at least on one occasion, and hearing tales from the past while doing so. Uncle George's parents lived in this same house of Webster Street until they passed away. How many times they climbed those steps I can only imagine. I have a picture of Uncle George standing on those very steps when he returned from the war, World War Two. How many Christmases and other holidays saw the family go in and out of that home ? Uncle George passed away in that home and his last trip down those steps he was carried.
Now Joan, my wife' sister had cared for Uncle George for many years. She and her husband Fred would take him grocery shopping and other places as he required. Over the years , as Uncle George became more frail and lost his sight they continued. Sadly Fred passed away back in 2005 but Joan continued. Gradually my wife and I began to help as well. We would drive up to Joan's place and take her to Uncle George's. From there we took Joan to the grocery store or wherever she needed to go. You see, Joan doesn't drive anymore. This practice continued for a number of years. In hindsight we really didn't go visit Uncle George often enough. Hindsight is twenty twenty as the saying goes.
After Uncle George's passing, about a week later I would say, Joan was with another sister of hers, Vicky. They had to go to Uncle George's place to clean it up some and remove some personal items. I am grateful that I didn't have to go then as the sorrow ,I fear, would have been too great. I have walked up those steps on Webster Street for the last time. I will carry the memory of Uncle George with me wherever I go.
I only mention all of this because of a photograph. Vicky took a snapshot, on her phone, of Joan sitting on those steps at 1714 Webster Street. The quality of the picture is not what you would normally call great. But there is a quality to that picture I can not explain. That quality must be contained in the old saying, a picture is worth a thousand words. It would take at least a thousand words to tell what is going on in that picture. There is shadow and shade. Some streams of light are cast on the door and house number. The picture has a feel of nostalgia about it, almost a Norman Rockwell type quality. I can't really explain it other than to say I find it comforting in some fashion, peaceful. Isn't it strange how a picture can move you like that ? A single moment in time, captured, yet a lifetime, several lifetimes in fact contained within.
Now Joan, my wife' sister had cared for Uncle George for many years. She and her husband Fred would take him grocery shopping and other places as he required. Over the years , as Uncle George became more frail and lost his sight they continued. Sadly Fred passed away back in 2005 but Joan continued. Gradually my wife and I began to help as well. We would drive up to Joan's place and take her to Uncle George's. From there we took Joan to the grocery store or wherever she needed to go. You see, Joan doesn't drive anymore. This practice continued for a number of years. In hindsight we really didn't go visit Uncle George often enough. Hindsight is twenty twenty as the saying goes.
After Uncle George's passing, about a week later I would say, Joan was with another sister of hers, Vicky. They had to go to Uncle George's place to clean it up some and remove some personal items. I am grateful that I didn't have to go then as the sorrow ,I fear, would have been too great. I have walked up those steps on Webster Street for the last time. I will carry the memory of Uncle George with me wherever I go.
I only mention all of this because of a photograph. Vicky took a snapshot, on her phone, of Joan sitting on those steps at 1714 Webster Street. The quality of the picture is not what you would normally call great. But there is a quality to that picture I can not explain. That quality must be contained in the old saying, a picture is worth a thousand words. It would take at least a thousand words to tell what is going on in that picture. There is shadow and shade. Some streams of light are cast on the door and house number. The picture has a feel of nostalgia about it, almost a Norman Rockwell type quality. I can't really explain it other than to say I find it comforting in some fashion, peaceful. Isn't it strange how a picture can move you like that ? A single moment in time, captured, yet a lifetime, several lifetimes in fact contained within.
 |
| A moment in time |
No comments:
Post a Comment