tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post507319838818825189..comments2023-06-28T22:58:28.247+10:00Comments on Sixth In Line: Haunted by Photos of the Dead 2Elisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-33352873582406384882010-03-04T14:42:51.746+11:002010-03-04T14:42:51.746+11:00I've read through this twice.
Thank you.I've read through this twice. <br /><br />Thank you.Maggie Mayhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14699674732274478502noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-33223609266137852712010-03-02T00:16:51.568+11:002010-03-02T00:16:51.568+11:00Sad but beautifully written.Sad but beautifully written.Moirahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03248425760199196965noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-12044501479210854592010-03-01T02:26:32.430+11:002010-03-01T02:26:32.430+11:00Elisabeth,it feels fine to read this and also I wa...Elisabeth,it feels fine to read this and also I wanted you to know,if I felt not so insecure about my written English(very important to me)I would,probably, comment more often and than,after all, I find myself actually feeling good by just being silent reader not only at your wonderful place,I have met more life giving spirits,warm people with their loving blogs and there Im silent too,it feels good that way. And,yes,William is a special to me,<br />close trough numerous aspects of our life's,he believes in me even when I loose my faith,never done me wrong by refusing me on count of my believes,sharing compassion and warmth of a dear friend what I miss the most in my life. I hope to finalized his portrait in the near future so I can give back just a little to him and his loving family!And as I go on reading your writing,i discover more and more of beauty,you are like a raw diamond to me that I start to recognize trough the darkness of my lonely search for friendly fire.Hmm,you see.I try to do as Im clever with words but Im not,so I'll leave that to you and other well read and spoken people.Thank you,love,light and peace,<br />veel geluk en liefde,<br />Aleksandra<br />Phfu....I did my best.... :O) <br /><br />oh,how nice,my word verification is delyla.....Alekshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07514059217994184072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-59714156565183359842010-02-28T16:06:52.236+11:002010-02-28T16:06:52.236+11:00Thanks Aleks. It is true, the 'Honger' wi...Thanks Aleks. It is true, the 'Honger' winter was terrible. <br /><br />I think of the tough winter people are having in the northern part of the world now and it reminds me of how hard it must have been then. At least these are not war times in most places now. <br /><br />I enjoy your visits to William Micahelian's blog, Aleks. You two seem to have a special bond and it's lovely to read about your shared love of poetry and William's portraiture. <br /><br />I'm very pleased to see you here on my blog as well. Thanks.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-50600810654583075212010-02-28T14:54:54.589+11:002010-02-28T14:54:54.589+11:00Elisabeth,you write so beautiful,im really deeply ...Elisabeth,you write so beautiful,im really deeply touched and moved as I recognize a lot in your story from the heart braking stories from my family and some of my Dutch friends who's parents knew the hunger winter as well. I can clearly picture it,you with your dead sister's photo,and touch the loneliness in your writing.Beautiful!<br />Love,light and peace,Aleksandra<br /> Groetjes uit Nederland !Alekshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07514059217994184072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-65220952444346121592010-02-23T09:17:27.938+11:002010-02-23T09:17:27.938+11:00Don't stress, Lesley. I should have realised ...Don't stress, Lesley. I should have realised what you meant. <br /><br />I've seen it elsewhere, this affectionate sisterhood in the blogosphere. I should have twigged. Still I'm pleased to be so connected. I have three 'real' sisters. It's lovely to have another<br />'virtual' one.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-73275018799946419522010-02-23T07:36:11.359+11:002010-02-23T07:36:11.359+11:00Oh, Elisabeth, I'm sorry. I stated that poorly...Oh, Elisabeth, I'm sorry. I stated that poorly. I was calling YOU my sister because we're so close in age. The 8-24-52 is my birthday. So you're only 3 1/2 months older. I don't have a sister. Only my tragic brother, Gary. Sorry to confuse.Leslie Morganhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15702472429383639709noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-56012145799142675032010-02-22T22:24:23.741+11:002010-02-22T22:24:23.741+11:00Thanks, John. I'm not quite sure what you mean...Thanks, John. I'm not quite sure what you mean by 'understanding me a little better now', but I'm glad for it. Maybe one day you could elucidate.<br /><br />Thanks, Jim. This business of gaining 'kudos' can get us into all sorts of trouble, but the need to be attended to is hard wired at birth, otherwise we die. <br /><br />At school the nuns used to have a go at the noisy kids. They called them 'notice boxes'. It was an expression that troubled me. <br /><br />In my mind's eye I could see red pillar boxes, the sort into which we slipped our mail for posting. <br /><br />These noisy kids - boys mostly - did not remind me one bit of Her Majesty's pillar boxes.<br /><br />We have a large box of unsorted pictures from my husband's childhood and from before his birth, unidentified pictures. We will most likely never get to know who's in them, but like you we'll never destroy them. <br /><br />Maybe one day after we're dead they'll wind up in sorting boxes in second hand book shops. <br /><br />You probably have them too in Scotland. Boxes of old photos, black and whites mostly that people, particularly writers like to sift through for inspiration.<br /><br />You can always find some use for a photograph even if you don't know the source or its meaning.<br />Thanks, Jim.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-21798594950776107742010-02-22T22:09:30.757+11:002010-02-22T22:09:30.757+11:00Thanks again, Lesley. Mine's 5/11/52 - your s...Thanks again, Lesley. Mine's 5/11/52 - your sister and I are close in age. I'm glad we have so much in common, at least in the blogosphere. Who knows how we'd match up in real life? Thanks too for your kind words about my writing. <br /><br />Bonnie, as I wrote to you in my most recent post (I'm writing out of order here), you know about these sorts of sufferings as well - you with your particular background. We write into our pain and come out of it less pained.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-14883325100548578882010-02-22T05:16:49.621+11:002010-02-22T05:16:49.621+11:00It’s interesting what we do to gain kudos. This is...It’s interesting what we do to gain kudos. This is probably one of the few occasions where one might properly use the expression ‘morbid curiosity’. I can see how the photo made the existence of your sister more real, more so than if you’d just been told the tale. The nearest I can come to understanding this is looking at photos of my mother’s family, uncles, aunts and nephews most of whom I have never met. I’ve never even seen a photo of any relative on my father’s side. This hasn’t troubled me and what few scraps of facts I can remember about my paternal grandfather have been enough. I’m sure I was told more but I’ve forgotten it all even why Dad broke contact with his family. I’ve certainly no desire to trace my family tree.<br /><br />I don’t feel connected to the people in the photos I’ve kept. My brother, sister and I divvied up the photos – every one found a home – but I don’t think I’ve looked at them since that day. It just seemed wrong to toss them. I scanned the ones where more of us wanted a copy, posted them to my brother and sister, and that was it. I suspect that the fact that my parents’ relatives were not a part of my life has a lot to do with my own lack of interest in family. I found it strange with my first wife to find myself absorbed into a large extended family; it wasn’t unpleasant but it felt odd.<br /><br />Your mother’s story is a very sad one but purely from a writer’s perspective I have to say that last line knocks the feet from under you when you read it. Well told.<br /><br>Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-27445019396082962272010-02-22T04:52:08.201+11:002010-02-22T04:52:08.201+11:00Heartbreaking. Now I think I'm finally beginni...Heartbreaking. Now I think I'm finally beginning to understand you a little, Elisabeth.John Ettorrehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18229971392235689875noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-25919846736277163992010-02-21T23:56:35.893+11:002010-02-21T23:56:35.893+11:00An achingly beautiful and haunting tribute to your...An achingly beautiful and haunting tribute to your mother's devotion and the too short life of your sister. So beautifully written Elisabeth.Bonnie Zieman, M.Ed.https://www.blogger.com/profile/00282469017360136275noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-50739052062674881452010-02-21T13:32:44.690+11:002010-02-21T13:32:44.690+11:008/24/52, my sister. And an apology: I don't cr...8/24/52, my sister. And an apology: I don't credit you frequently enough with what a stunning writer you are. I go almost 100% to the common, shared feelings. You write them beautifully, while I sometimes bathe in the shared feel of it all rather than express that it is ALSO beautiful writing. I apologize for that. I'd like to hit all my marks every time, but I don't. I'm imperfect.Leslie Morganhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15702472429383639709noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-63455810992373524232010-02-21T13:27:42.167+11:002010-02-21T13:27:42.167+11:00Beth, thanks for sharing your childhood story abou...Beth, thanks for sharing your childhood story about little Shariann's forgotten gravestone. <br /><br />Once my husband and I and our then much younger children went to Bega in New South Wales, to visit the dwelling place of his ancestors and there in a grave yard in a place called Kameruka, we came across the grave stone of a little Lydia H who died at two years of age from scalding. The memory has long stayed with me. It's so sad in graveyards to see signs of all the children who have died.<br /><br />You're right about how much we can make of an absence, Steven. We can turn an absence into a presence. <br /><br />I have been so aware of this dead sister whom I never knew. Had she lived, I suspect our relationship might have been very different. <br /><br />We tend to eulogize the dead. That's not such a bad thing. I suspect again it's a way of coping with the absence. Thanks, Steven.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-57941252248163697702010-02-21T13:19:45.572+11:002010-02-21T13:19:45.572+11:00Thanks, Reader Will. there is something heart wre...Thanks, Reader Will. there is something heart wrenching about the death of a child as you say, and as the poetry I've just now posted suggests, it's the second worst thing. <br /><br />Yes, Lesley it has occurred to me that you and I are the same age, and therefore although we live on different sides of the world the milieu into which we were born would have contained similarities.<br /><br />And you are right, finding a voice, having a say, being heard is central to my struggle, as I expect it is for many bloggers. <br /><br />Others of course might prefer to listen. I think we need both, to listen to one another and to be heard. Thanks for your kind words here, Lesley and for looking in sideways.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-36812954879507174242010-02-21T11:58:39.574+11:002010-02-21T11:58:39.574+11:00For better or worse, Lis, I've posted a poem i...For better or worse, Lis, I've posted a poem in response to this discussion. Not sure if you've ever read it.<br /><br />This better not set me off - I'll blame you entirely!Grettahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10692628118583670154noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-78518892893305337462010-02-21T08:38:44.783+11:002010-02-21T08:38:44.783+11:00elisabeth - i read this story aloud to myself to r...elisabeth - i read this story aloud to myself to really hear the words and feel them physically. when a child flies away it echoes through a family in a way that is hard to explain. it seems obvious that there is sorrow but there's so much more that is about absence and especially about the presence of absence. i'm grateful that you shared this here. stevenstevenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14132104804524716898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-33703280500627841892010-02-21T06:01:17.820+11:002010-02-21T06:01:17.820+11:00Powerful, haunting...something I will not forget.
...Powerful, haunting...something I will not forget.<br /><br />I remember when my cousin Shariann died as a baby--I remember how sweet she looked in her coffin. She seemed to be only sleeping.<br /><br />I was around eight years old.<br /><br />When we were visiting our cousins in the country. We went to the graveyard where ShariAnn was buried. There was nothing to celebrate her resting place.<br /><br />As I remember it, we stole all the trappings off the other graves to festoon hers. It seemed right at the time.<br /><br />I have lost a brother--but he was 42. Dad lost his little sister when she was around the age of yours...Life is hard.<br /><br />Looking back, it is hard to fathom the life which has been lived...<br /><br />You are a gifted writer. I would read any book you might publish. Powerful, poignant wonderful writing.Beth Niquettehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12123973998090266918noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-82725421546238127412010-02-21T04:29:52.697+11:002010-02-21T04:29:52.697+11:00Beautifully written piece of deep, great heartbrea...Beautifully written piece of deep, great heartbreak, Elisabeth. My resonating story is about a baby cousin, but that's an unimportant difference. These dead who were not with us very long certainly throw a long shadow across our lives.<br /><br />You know I sometimes come in "sideways" on things and I'm going to do that now. I became tearful thinking about YOU and your thread in the tapestry of the dead baby sister. This post told me you are almost precisely my same age. I know you were Catholic, so I know the guilt you'd have felt about acting as attention's lightning rod. Young Catholic girls of our era were force-fed plenty of guilt and shame. And yet, I think of you in that long line of children - you were sixth - and I think of how badly you probably NEEDED attention. Being ashamed to ask for our needs in a straightforward way is a terrible burden.<br /><br />Your post has made me very pensive. I thank you for it.Leslie Morganhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15702472429383639709noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-4959324086220742412010-02-21T01:42:22.910+11:002010-02-21T01:42:22.910+11:00That generation had so much to bear, didn't th...That generation had so much to bear, didn't they? And yet they got on with life. My sister lost twin boys and never mentioned them until she was dying, when she gave the date of their birth as her birthday - and we knew that it had been etched onto her mind for sixty years.The Weaver of Grasshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13947971556343746883noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-45084430320744821712010-02-21T01:01:27.778+11:002010-02-21T01:01:27.778+11:00To lose a child is the worst one could experience....To lose a child is the worst one could experience. I always cry when I read such a story like yours or see sick and dying children on TV. Your story is written well! Thanks for sharing.Reader Wilhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06384603525251159272noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-48123763990483651162010-02-20T23:03:04.965+11:002010-02-20T23:03:04.965+11:00"an infant Miss Haversham" - great line"an infant Miss Haversham" - great lineGrettahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10692628118583670154noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-56390377329177032192010-02-20T22:27:25.463+11:002010-02-20T22:27:25.463+11:00Thanks, Gina for sharing the story of the person w...Thanks, Gina for sharing the story of the person who would have been your great uncle. It is so sad tat so many people have bottled up their pain in the way your grandmother did. Perhaps it felt better for her to do it this way, but maybe to have been able to shared the pain would have helped. who knows. <br /><br />I always try to remind myself, I must remember not to judge the past by today's standards. Things were different then. And even today, they're not homogeneous. We all experience things differently. One person keeps her pain to herself, another is desperate to share it. <br /><br />Thanks, Mike. The photo of my dead baby sister is a treasure. I will keep it near me always. I feel privileged to have it and to be able to use it as a prompt to memory. <br /><br />Thank you, Vassilis for reminding us that these years were terrible for others too, not just in Western Europe, but in many places including Greece. How tragic for your mother to have lost a son who could have been saved if only there were the right medication available. <br /><br />Sadly such terrible and unnecessary losses continue today in places where people cannot get the necessary treatment. The world is so dreadfully inequitable. I can barely let myself think about it.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-79408469777174368282010-02-20T22:17:02.002+11:002010-02-20T22:17:02.002+11:00Kass, it's amazing how many people have memori...Kass, it's amazing how many people have memories of dead siblings whether their own or those of a parent or grandparent. <br /><br />The dead babies stay with us in our memories. Thanks.<br /><br />I'm sorry to have stirred up unbearable pain for you, AnnODyne. I understand your stopping midway. <br /><br />Sometimes it is just too painful, but thanks for commenting. You're right - a mother can never forget her lost baby, her lost child, her lost unborn child. They stay in our memories forever. <br /><br />Thanks Conda. The frequency with which babies died during Victorian times - babies and mothers - must have made their take on the loss of a child very different from our perspective these days. They had the additional help of more enthrenched religious views I suppose, but I imagine even then, mothers and fathers too never really overcame such losses. Thanks.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-17388093128453335932010-02-20T22:09:49.392+11:002010-02-20T22:09:49.392+11:00Thanks Anthony. I'm pleased I was able to cre...Thanks Anthony. I'm pleased I was able to create images in the mind of you, an artist. It's a different process of course.<br /><br />Glimmer, thanks to you too. My mother told me the story often. She also wrote about it in her own memoir. I know the story well by now. And although it does not distress me as it did when I was a child, it still makes me sad. Needless to say, I wish my oldest sister still lived. <br /><br />Gosh, Ces, thanks for telling us about your experience as a nurse. I had not realised how bad it must be. <br /><br />It is surely a most heart breaking area in which to work. No wonder you chose to leave. I'm not sure I could bear it ether. Thank you for your kind words.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.com