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We also rode
our bikes through Bonaventure Cemetery, which we put on our "must
see" list after we saw it in the movie "Midnight in the
Garden of Good and Evil."
Neither of
us had ever seen the movie, so we rented it the first night in Savannah.
But we both got too sleepy before the end, so didn't finish it until
the next morning. Maybe that's why it ended up making no real sense
to us, but it was still cool to see Savannah right after seeing
the movie.
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The
massive ancient oak trees dripping with that old Spanish moss
lent just the right spookiness that I don't think I'd want to
be there other than in daylight. |
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a cemetery that was done in an age when people were really into the
extravagant burying business. |
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Some
of the statues and monuments were unbelievably elaborate and
the stories they told either in words or by the sad expressions
of the statues depicting those left behind were heart-breaking
and memorialized their grief for all time. |
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The other interesting
thing that riding around that cemetery did for me was that in thinking
about death, I realized that there has never before been a time
in my life that I could honestly say that if I died this very moment,
I would be doing exactly what I want to be doing with my life. Even
though I haven't seen everything I want to see yet, I would have
no regrets because I am in the process of it and not putting it
off until a "better time." Sometimes the "better
time" doesn't show up.
I remember reading once
that in retrospect, more elderly people regret the things they didn't
do more than the things they did. If the testimony of the still-living
doesn't prove the wisdom of following your dreams, the stillness
of the graves sealed that deal for me. Even though spirit goes on,
the unique opportunities afforded by this particular life is lost
and that is a loss never recoverable in quite the same way.
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