Relics of Memory and Light

I must have passed Woodlawn Cemetery thousands of times, driving down Woodward, but never stopped until today.

I'm always looking for new spots with great scenery to walk Smart and Fluffy, and although newer cemeteries give me pause, filled with such fresh grief, older ones seem more welcoming and peaceful. The older cemeteries like Woodlawn are also a testament to the talent of Detroit's architects and artisans. 

Bad photo, but oh, how the window reflects onto the marble on either side.

I imagine the spirits happy to have company, and of course I imagine them as dog lovers, undisturbed by racing paws and curious noses.

Smart takes in the view.

The mausoleum where I am first bewitched by stained glass.

Woodlawn Cemetery is noted for its exceptional quantity and quality of mausoleums, and if you peek inside them when the light strikes in the most magical way, they are ablaze. One could easily spend an afternoon just looking at stained glass. For more about Woodlawn's history, see the excellent Night Train. 

There were many flowers left from Mother's Day, and I was reminded how lucky I was to have my grandparents around into my twenties and thirties. Honestly, even now I don't think of them in the ground or in ashes; I think of them as staying with me in talismans I have...

in my grandpa's paintings that I can see from where I'm typing, in my Disneyworld Mickey Mouse locket ring from the first time I visited the grandparents in Florida when they retired... and in the scent of lilacs in Woodlawn's May air redolent of my other grandma's perfume.

Not my grandmother, but beloved as all mothers, grandmothers, and great grandmothers are.