Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Mrs. Sidney N.
Tim took a weekend off, for the most part. Just hung out with me. We did stuff. It was very nice. We went out for supper on Friday. We went 'antiquing'. We watched 'As Time Goes By' Saturday night cozied up on the couch. Sunday, we did some kicking around. Tim was listening to the Steelers game on the radio (we no longer get TV since the switchover to digital, and we just don't watch TV enough to justify paying for satellite). His beloved Steelers won, and to celebrate, he stopped for ice cream cones. As I started to get in the car, he said, "Let's go through the cemetary," and so we did. One tombstone belonged to Sidney N. who died in 1839. He was 32 years of age, and was crushed by a load of stone according to his unusually informative tombstone. There was a nearly illegible poem about the grief of those he left behind. Right next to that tombstone was a tiny one. It belonged to a little boy named Sidney N. who died at the age of 3 years x months and some odd days, every precious day calculated in the custom of the time. He died in 1843. I think about Mrs. Sidney N. widowed, grieving. Doing a rough calculation between the time of her husband's death and the birth of her boy, I realize that she may not have even realized she was pregnant while she wept at her husband's funeral. To find out that she was pregnant...how stunned she must have been! And when a little boy was born, he was named for his deceased father. To lose him while he was still a baby~ poor Mrs. Sidney! Even after 170 years, that story made me teary eyed. There was no tombstone for Mrs. Sidney, and I assume that the young widow remarried, or perhaps simply couldn't bear to remain in what was, at that time wilderness, and returned to her family back east somewhere.