Santa Margarita II is a gentler, more cohesive view of the cemetery frolickers. In the light of the full moon more spirits are visible. I do wonder who the man is kneeling below with the dog, who finds itself standing tall, paw to paw with Uncle Ernie. The fella looks a lot like dad's dad, Clyde Parson, but there's no way in the world he'd be invited to any gathering of these folk. My grandma was too, too angry at him, surely with all the reason in the world. A family secret I haven't been told. Aunt Sis, the girl in pink on the far right, would be the one to tell this story, the only one left to do so. Hasn't yet, may never. We'll see if my sister Pat, the littlest one down front on the left, gets to be the story keeper of this generation. And I wonder too, who will be the keeper of the stories those Parson Sisters, the other, Linda dancing on the right of that little sisterly group, know. I unfortunately do not remember much, have very few of those stories to pass to my girl. I've just got some pictures I've fussed over, toyed with, conjuring what I know to be true.
