Descriptive Essay On In Loving Memory

Beginning the poem with the explanation of how one feels when they first experience someone’s deception, Weslowski chooses words like “mummified” (6) and “morgue” (4) to paint the image of grief and the loss of self-expression through words. Using the term morgue makes the reader

Let’s examine the short story of “Killings” by Andre Dubus. The story begins on a warm August day with the burial of Matt and Ruth Fowler’s youngest son Frank. Frank was only twenty-one: “twenty-one years, eight months, and four days” (Dubus, “Killings” 107). Attending the funeral were Matt, his wife Ruth, their eldest son Steve, his wife, their middle daughter Cathleen and her husband. Frank was buried in a cemetery on a hill in Massachusetts overlooking the Merrimack. Across from the cemetery is an “apple orchard with symmetrically planted trees going up a hill” (107), a symbol of how nice and serene the cemetery actually is and the peace Frank now has. Matt’s family is extremely distraught over the murder of their youngest

In the book “The Memory Keeper's Daughter” by Kim Edwards a doctor and his wife have twins and the first child is a healthy boy but then the second child that comes out is a little girl with the signs of down syndrome and he asks his Nurse to take the baby away to an institution while he tells his wife the baby girl died. Through out the entire book it is a struggle for Dr. Henry's wife Norah to have closure with the fact that her baby girl is said to be dead and she never saw her, held her, or cared for her. Kim Edwards shows through the whole book that we are only human, the themes that life is beyond our control and through the connection between suffering and joy.

As I took my first step out of the doorway, I felt the ice below my feet and heard the wind whispering in

Samuel had been digging the grave all night. The task was labored silently, with only the shhks of the shovel being thrust into the dirt and the plops of the earth dropping sounding in the morning air. He would rest this morning if he could and his chores would fall to me. I had been eagerly anticipating them since Tom’s death; I needed a something to do. His passing had been long coming and while he had lain dying I had a job to do. I fed him spoonfuls of water and grain knowing all the while that it was futile and I was utterly useless, but still trying because Tom just couldn't die like that; so young.

In the story, the ending says “The grass of many years has sprung up and withered on that grave, the burial stone is mossgrown, and good Mr. Hooper’s face is dust; but awful is still the thought that it mouldered beneath the Black Veil!.” (13) The same end has the clues that show us the effect that is wanted to create with the story, which are deductible due to the tone, the subject of the speaker and the vocabulary. The subject he is talking about is the death and burial of a corpse. In addition, it names the disintegration of the corpse under the gravestone. The vocabulary used, the use of the words "black veil”, "disintegrated" are all strong words that point in the same direction. And finally the tone, of excitement, marked by the exclamation marks and the feeling of surprise all

Originally established by the Bethlehem Cemetery Society in 1882, it is known as “the final resting place for many African Americans from Athens and surrounding communities” ("Friends of Brooklyn," n.d.). Upon arrival we were directed to remove invasive plants and trees and to clear the brush that covered many of the unmarked graves. During this process, I learned that the effort to improve the land conditions of this area had been ongoing for years and depended almost entirely on volunteerism. Now, the state of the area was definitely overrun with plant life, but I genuinely felt that our overall efforts were effective. I witnessed a stubborn thorny jungle transform into a historic cemetery. Upon observation, I was able to read some of the markers and headstones, and realized that some of the plots had existed for over 135 years. I found one headstone, placed over a century ago, to be clever and beautiful with the epithet, “He is not dead but sleepeth.” I found myself wondering the significance of that phrase in 1915. There were also more emotional moments between sweating and pulling weeds. I experienced a curious sadness upon uncovering an infant’s unmarked grave, which opened my eyes to all of the other small children buried there. However, I also experienced moments of comedic relief

Yet,it only washed away a few;the easy sorrows,but the effusive pains remained.Suddenly without warning,a vivid memory of my mother rushed to my mind and my heart constricted.

Clouds disperse across the sky, allowing streaks of sunlight to slightly break through, illuminating the gravestone faintly

It was a normal day, beautiful even. The sky was clear, it was warm, you wouldn't ever think that today would take multiple lives. There were no clouds in the sky. Little did I know how much my life, and the inhabitants of my hometown, was going to change.

Coupled with the reference to the cineraria leaves, a silvery foliage meant for keeping the ashes of a cremated body, the narrator crafts a gravesite which mimics the ceremonial weight of the death of a human being. By elevating this death to such a level, revealing the desire for the toad to rest in paradise after the “chewed and clipped leg” which ended his life, the narrator illustrates his regret over this accidental and unnecessary death. The use of the leaves which hold ashes add the ceremonial and serious presence of a ritual one would do for a loved one, reserving a space for their remains to rest, displaying the speaker’s somber and serious response to the toad’s death.Furthermore, the narrator takes special note of the appearance of the frog, particularly the “gutters of the banked and staring eyes” and his body “as still as if he would return to stone.” The eyes, often a representation of the soul, remain “banked” and “staring”, void of the emotions characteristic to an animal’s eyes. Often, when a person or animal dies, the eyes are placed closed to represent rest. However, the toad’s

Their corpses lay among the poppies and forget-me-nots. Nature’s cruelty was shown as the sun shone brightly, a cool breeze now and then. A beautiful landscape littered with blood. Somewhere families waited in vain for their loved ones to come back. But they never would. These men were now meat for the birds.Their eyes were as still as their body. Their souls long departed to walk with their ancestors. The battle was lost. The enemy had won. The corpses lay there to rot. So cold. The life that had kept them alive until now, Gone. And they were now safe from the dangers lurking in the shadows. No harm could come to them

In the graveyard, I watch the ground fog climbing the ridges of Modjeska peak. Here, the fog dissipates as time unfurls its wings the color of the sun. I look at dad’s and John’s graves.

In everyone’s life there is a moment that is so dreadful and horrific that it is best to try to push it further and further back into your mind. When traumatized by death for example it is very natural to shut off the memory in order to self-defense suppresses the awful emotional experience. Very often it is thoughtful that this neglecting and abandoning is the best way to forget. In Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved, memory is depicted as a dangerous and deliberating faculty of human consciousness. In this novel Sethe endures the oppression of self imposed prison of memory by revising the past and death of her daughter Beloved, her mother and Baby Suggs. In Louise Erdrich’s

The cemetery I chose to visit and explore was the Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. On the way to the cemetery I couldn’t help but feel anxious. When I began to drive past the cemetery to its entrance, all I could see were miles and miles of headstones. It was eerie to say the least. As a kid, whenever my family would drive by a cemetery, my siblings and I would hold our breath until we passed so as to not breathe in the wandering, lost souls. Actually going into a cemetery to look around seemed counterintuitive, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to hold my breath for that long. It didn’t help that right when I entered those black gates that separated the living from the dead, clouds of smoke and ash permeated the air around me due to bodies being cremated on site.