Soooo, yesterday Bob and I took a much-needed ride, just the two of us, away from the house, out into the “wilds” of the Berkshires. Only they’re not so wild…only one bird flew in front of us. I was hoping for something more along the lines of a moose. Oh well.
BUT, we did venture into a very old cemetery which we both love to visit. The oldest stone I saw in this cemetery was 1789; so many of them were quite beautiful.
I find cemeteries to be quite peaceful and comforting. The number one reason is the most obvious—they’re quiet. But also because of the strong emotions attached to them, especially the love that transcends even death. You can see it everywhere and often, you can feel it.
We meandered around there for awhile and I took some photos. After reading a few of the stones, though, I realized that there was quite the story playing out in front of me, only this story was written in stone. Check out these photos….
I looked it up and the oldest definition was “spouse”. It looks as if Amasa Frissell had three wives over the course of twenty years. It also looks like he would get himself a new one every ten or eleven years! They must have all gotten along because all four stones were side by side.
I came away from the cemetery with a bunch of unanswered questions lingering…who was Amasa Frissell, why did he have so many wives, why did they all die early, what is a consort and why did he have one? And whatever happened to MR. Sabra??!!