Same day as Thursday, writing today. I feel like I am on the ball, another episode of ‘Through My Looking Glass” so soon after that last one. Time seems to pass by without me noticing and I would love to have a few more hours to just do these kinds of things. This is not to say that I am always so busy, I am often so busy doing nothing to do anything.
After I found my car still intact on Thursday after our trip to soweto, I drove home with such an amazingly warm and fuzzy feeling. I felt connected to something special. I decided to go back the way I went in the morning and when I drove past the West Park Cemetary and the light from the setting sun seemed to make the stones sparkle and I thought that I just had to go in there.
My intention was not to stay very long, but once in, I couldn’t help reading what was written on many of those stones, there are the most beautiful messages. The little angel statues caught my eyes and I found that many of those graves belonged to babies and children. I chose those to photograph because I almost wanted the parents to know that someone acknowledged their babies. Although, those graves were so unkept, I am sure that the parents are long gone and buried somewhere near by.
There have been many deaths of late, close members of family of those that I know. And it is amazing how different we all are and how we deal with it. I see death as a part of life, my life goes on, even if someone’s has ended. Mourning death is sad, celebrating the life seems to be more appropriate for me. But with that said, when I saw how young those little children were, there was no life to celebrate and my perception has changed a little. Perhaps because I couldn’t imagine how those parents must have felt to bury their babies, to not have been given the opportunities to see their little lives flourish. Kelso completes me in many ways and I think this is why my perception is different when it is little children.
What I did realize that one day we will all be forgotten. We will not live the hearts of others forever, they too will pass on and one day no one will know who Candice Peetz was, not even possible great great great generations to follow. Perhaps I should bury some things?
While alive, we all want fame and fortune, we want to be somebody great. There are many who will do anything to satisfy this desire without a thought of who may be affected… and in the end, it doesn’t matter, because they too, will be forgotten (Unless you are Daisy De Melker – and even her crimes seem soft by today’s standards).
I choose life, I choose happiness and I choose wonderful things filled with the Juju of goodness.
This is Candice Peetz signing off on this pretty Nippy winter evening!