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the memorial bench

4/28/2022

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I spend a great deal of time in nature. At local parks, preserves, nature sanctuaries. I find these spaces calming, peaceful, mentally and physically exhilarating and comforting. A walk in the woods, around a park lagoon, along a boardwalk, helps to quiet the mind, refresh the soul.  Most often, on a walk, I will come upon a park bench. One with a memorial plate.  A dedication to someone who no longer walks this earth. But whose essence remains, just the same.  Someone loved that person enough to buy space on a bench to honor them. And, likely, to be able to visit that park bench, sit down, and feel their presence once more.

My parents died many years apart. But both had wished to be cremated when they died. And to have their ashes scattered upon a river up north, in a park that meant a great deal to them in their younger years.
We honored those wishes, both times.  Made the trek five hours north, and scattered their ashes as requested.  The moments were special, and memorable, of course.  

But years later, more than a decade, from time to time, I feel a need to visit them.  I have made the trip a couple times, to that river up north. And spent time on the bridge from which their ashes fell. But it's a journey not easily made in a moments notice. 

I tell myself it doesn't matter. That I can feel near to them by opening a photo album, listening to a special song, or re-imagining a special moment or memory. But sometimes, I feel the need to find a peaceful spot,  to sit, reflect. Maybe even talk to them. Out loud. 

Sometimes I talk to them when I'm driving in my car. Sometimes I drive by my mothers old apartment, just to see if her aura resonates there. Sometimes I visit old cemeteries and talk to them as I walk the paths of gravestones, songbirds singing overhead. Even though they aren't buried there, in my mind there is still some otherworldly connection. Cemeteries are where we bury the dead. But aren't they really there for the living? For those the deceased leave behind? So we can visit them, somehow.

I know I'm not alone in this. Lots of people are cremated, and their ashes scattered in far away places. Some people go missing, and never return. Some die in foreign lands and cannot be returned, or cannot be returned to. Whatever the situation, I've no doubt that the loved ones left behind yearn for a touchstone, a place to be quiet, and imagine a continued connection.

Grief is a difficult thing. It eases over time, but it never truly leaves you. So, I have this fantasy of a memorial bench in every park, meant for anyone who grieves another. Who grieves the loss of a loved one. A place where they can sit and be with their thoughts and memories, and feel the essence of that missing soul nearby.  I suppose it really doesn't matter if there is a memorial plate on the bench. A name, or a message, a poem, or quote. Every park bench could be considered a memorial bench.  Except those signs do mean something. They say to the world that this is a memorial bench. That this is a special place. That this person should be remembered. Is remembered. And your lost loved one deserves to be remembered, too. 
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​Scattered ashes
Missing souls
Here, a touchstone
For those we loved
​And the days we mourn



(c)2020 Kimberly Mackowski
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my love is a hummingbird

4/20/2022

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spirit lake

4/5/2022

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PictureThe pines at Spirit Lake.
So much of what I do creatively is done solo.  I hike, photograph nature, write lyrics, play ukulele. I share my photographs in a few different ways, sing my songs on occasion for others.  But the actual creative part is so often done alone.

In the fall of 2020 we were all so isolated.  Thanks to Covid-19 we were spending even more time alone than we were used to.  It was at this time that I invited my sister to join me in a project.  I asked her to be my photographic muse.  She said Yes!  I was so excited.  We decided on a location to shoot and film, Spirit Lake Nature Preserve.  Just the name of the preserve was inspiring.  I had been there before, and I knew that there were big stands of pine trees, and I thought they might be the perfect spot for our afternoon of creativity.

PictureA crown of flowers and leaves.
I ended up writing a new song for this project, with a different sound than my usual little ukulele folk songs.  I recorded it and sent it along to my sister for her thoughts.  She liked it!  We talked a bit about costumes.  I made her a crown of leaves and flowers, she brought a cape, and a gorgeous long green dress.

In my mind I could picture her character running through the woods.  She's a runner, so she was up for it.
I'm not sure I was ever as excited for a project.  She has a natural flair for acting, so I knew she would be great.  And on the day we scheduled to film the weather was perfect. Sunny, not too warm.  We would be under the cover of the pines, so there wouldn't be any trouble with light. ​

PictureMy Sister, my muse.
We drove to the location.  There was no one else there.  We had the woods all to ourselves. And for about two hours it was bliss!  We shot video scenes, did a photo shoot.  She ran barefoot across the pine needles through the woods.  Things just fell into place.  And when we were done I couldn't wait to get home to edit it all together.  

And though it was an absolute beginner project, I have to say that I'm so happy with how it turned out. Her performance, the song, the photography.  I had only done a couple music video projects before, so I was just learning. But it was so much fun putting it all together.  A true learning experience.  I can't wait to collaborate with her again.  So, let me just say, Thank you, Laura. You're amazing.​

HERE AMONG THE PINES
THE SMELL OF THE EARTH
ALL AROUND ME

HAWK CIRCLING OVERHEAD
I HEAR HIM CRY
​THE MOON IS ARISING

     NEXT TO ME
     I HEAR YOUR HEART BEAT
     NEXT TO ME
​     IT SOUNDS LIKE A DRUM
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​LOVE IS A MYSTERY
IN THE WILD
UNDERSTORY

     WILDERNESS
     MOVES THROUGH MY VEINS
     YOUR CARESS
     ON MY SKIN LIKE THE RAIN


​JUST BEYOND THE TREES
MOONLIGHT IS SHINING
O'ER SPIRIT LAKE

IN THE DARK IT CALLS TO ME
SO WE WILL GO
​TO WADE IN THE WATER
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​NEXT TO ME
I HEAR YOUR HEART BEAT
NEXT TO ME
IT SOUNDS LIKE A DRUM
NEXT TO ME
​IT SOUNDS LIKE A DRUM
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    Author

    I write prose, songs, poetry, play ukulele, sing, and take pictures, too. I love nature, birds of all kinds, and am channeling the courage to share my creative self. I live in Southeast Wisconsin with my husband, and a family of pet birds. I am also the creator of the nature website and blog
    ​ theparknextdoor.com.

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