My genealogy activities lately have consisted of stolen moments on the internet between grading papers at night and, more frequently, a weekly visit to the local veterans cemetery photographing headstones on Saturdays. I have to steal these moments as well. If there are people there, I leave. If there is a service, I don’t even stop the car.
Even though my goal is to take volunteer pictures for Find A Grave, I feel like an interloper sometimes. When I see an elderly person, with head bent, standing before the grave of a loved one or friend, it nearly breaks my heart. I don’t want to invade those moments. I’ve had my share of loss and don’t want to disturb the mourning of others. So, sometimes I’m there and then, suddenly gone. Yesterday I was able to capture just over 60 stones, when two ladies came with flowers for their loved one. I put my camera in my pocket and walked away. I have no right to be there in a place so hallowed, while others remember what I cannot see in my mind’s eye – the face of the one they love.