Since yesterday was a beautiful spring day, John and I grabbed his camera and headed for Cambridge with the purpose of visiting Longfellow's tomb. Having taken our phone call asking about wheelchair access to his gravesite earlier that morning, a staff member greeted us with a map showing a possible wheelchair route.
The first leg of the route was easy, and spectacular. The graves, tombs and mausoleums nestled on exquisite landscaping, enhanced by a symphony of bird songs. Some grave markers carried on the simple Puritan style that I've come to know at The Old Grainary Burial Ground in Boston.
Others, however, were more lavish. One, in particular, makes me wonder if some of Thomas Kinkade's paintings were inspired by these grounds.
The various views astounded me. As we worked our way toward Indian Ridge (the path that would lead us to Longfellow's tomb) we spotted a pond onramented with neoclassical architecture that made me feel as if we were wandering through a fairy tale garden rather than a cemetery.
In all fairy tales, however, there comes an arduous task before reaching the goal. We found Indian Ridge, which was a long, narrow path. Since there are aspects of that part of the journey that I wouldn't want repeated to either of our mothers, I refuse to share the details, but I will say that the Lord comforted me through the most difficult parts by reminding me of Psalm 23.
About half way up to Longfellow's tomb, we had a break from the narrowness. We stopped on a bridge over a meditation area that we had viewed from the ground level earlier. What a pretty place to stop and rest!
As we continued our trek, I wanted to give up. I was sore from driving on such tough terrain, and it was well past lunch time. But just as I opened my mouth to tell John I wanted to turn back, I told myself we had come too far to quit.
We kept driving our chairs up the hill. All of a sudden, I glanced to my right to see a almost too simple sarcophagus that had the one word, "Longfellow," engraved on it. I had expected more architecture to adorn it, but it was punctuated only by two flower bushes (which attracted bees so huge that I decided not to be in the picture).
I prayed a while at the grave, and then we went back down. We agreed that we would never again visit any graves on Indian Ridge!
But we also agreed that we'll visit Mount Auburn Cemetery again. It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen. For a moment, I caught myself wondering if heaven looks like that.
Then I remembered: Heaven is infinitely more beautiful! I can only hope that Lowell. Holms and Longfellow have heaven as their final resting place.
1 comments:
Next time you visit Mount Auburn Cemetery (I go there once a week), you can also try to find the grave of James Thomas Fields, another character in The Dante Club. He'll probably be a bit harder to get to because he's a bit off the road, with no path in sight.
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