Friday, July 2, 2010
resting at Arlington
When I started my blog almost two years ago, I posted photos of my mother and father as part of the permanent display in the right hand column. Later I noticed that this is not common practice. Though this blog is principally about art, it is also about my evolution. And that evolution started with those who brought me here. So -- their photos remain.
This past Monday, for the first time, I visited Arlington National Cemetery. There, in 1996, a memorial was placed for my father, who had died some 21 years earlier. His professional life was dedicated to service of country, linked to his love of the sea. From him I inherited a smile, my wit, and a unibrow, the latter having thankfully been carved into two normal and separate eyebrows after an aggressive plucking session with my mother some time between the seventh and eight grades.
Daddy was cremated, his ashes scattered at sea on a Navy ship off San Diego. I was, therefore, surprised when I found out there was a memorial for him at Arlington. The Arlington staff referred to it as a marker, so as my husband and I came upon the designated Section H, and started looking for number 531, I expected to find some small brass plaque in the grass.
You can imagine the astonishment as Capt. Price's daughter gazed upon this exquisitely carved headstone, so perfectly lined up with his fellow soldiers' memorial headstones, just so, shaded by a graceful tree on a lovely gentle slope. What a loving gift this Arlington National Cemetery gave to my father.
It was a moment beyond poignant. We are always our parents' children, and this grown-up child now has just received a stunning gift. And I am ever grateful for my father's gift of my smile, my wit, and thankfully, my two, not one, Price eyebrows.