Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VII. Sunlight
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138 DAYS IN THE SUN
pacing up and down, for distraction, for forgetfulness,
running away from reality.
At home in our country, we take our dead with us, if
we have the means, or at least we stay in their
proximity. Here the living remain as far away as they
can from the city in which their children or loved ones
have died. I am acquainted with two ladies of good
family. They are sisters. All their relatives are dead.
They are attached to each other with the eager aftec-
tion of deserted little birds. The fact that they have
no mother has gotten into their blood and made them
quite motherly in their solicitude for each other. One
of them refused an excellent match in order that the
other might not stand alone in the world. And they
say, whenever any reference is made to the beautiful
cemetery of the town: “Yes, it is beautiful, and
formerly we often went there. But since mother died
fifteen years ago, we have never been to the place.”
Never in all that time! They do not even know where
their mother lies!
These people have a capacity for love and a solici-
tude for the living that is as great as any in the world.
They cannot be accused of heartlessness. Nor can it
be said that they are faithless to the memory of their
deceased. I have never seen any persons revert more
readily to the thought of their departed loved ones
than these. But it must be remembered that their as-
sociation with their loved ones was an association not
of common suffering and trials, but an association in
common pleasure. Their reminiscences of the dead, in
order to be precious to them, must be reminiscences of
happy hours shared together; and their paths do not
move heavily over graves, but build lightly and swiftly
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