Are you still with me?
A couple of posts ago on 'Over thy dead body' I wrote about how bizarre the weather was the day I visited Mount Jerome, and the fact that most of the old cemetery is in very poor condition. I imagine those two factors working together fed my uneasiness. So there I was in the part of the cemetery which is farthest away from the main road. There wasn't a soul in sight, it had stopped raining, and I was happily shooting photos when I heard THEM. Voices, whispering voices. I absolutely swear I heard them! On the honour of Boy scouts, Girl scouts, Cub scouts, and any other kind of scout you might think of, I HEARD WHISPERING!
I spun around on my heel fully expecting to find people making their way up the path nearby, but there was no one in sight. I stood in the middle of the path and looked in both directions and all around me. NO ONE was there. I chided myself for being scared and went back to taking photos. Then, I heard them again. This time I was annoyed and loudly declared "Who's there? This isn't funny!" NO ONE answered me, so... I did what any rational human being would do. I ran like h*ll back to the main road and into the shop where I was sure to find people.
A woman in the tuck shop said I looked like I'd had a fright, and I blurted out that I had heard whispering voices. She was very matter of fact and, with a half smile and a lovely Irish lilt, she said, "Of course you did. What do you expect in a place like this? There are many souls wandering around here, and we all hear them whispering now and again. They're just trying to remind us they want to be remembered". I thought she was joking, but she was serious. Then she said something to me that I have heard many times before from my own mother, "You've more to fear from the living than the dead."
She made me a lovely cup of tea, and after a few minutes I returned to the path and made my way back to the very beautiful marker I had been photographing just before I fled. Upon my return I discovered that it is the grave marker of a 13 year old girl and her parents. I felt a little smile come over my face. Alice Cogavin just wants to be remembered.
|Alice Cogavin, Lawrencetown, County Galway 5 November 1935, age 13 years; |
Mary Cogavin, her mother, 21 August 1943;
John Cogavin, Alice's father, 10 November 1971
For further details about Alice Cogavin visit "Alice Cogavin, aged 13"