I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time in cemeteries, and not just for funerals. I can pass anything on the road except an old cemetery, and I'm always stopping to take a look at them.

I am generally moved by the loving tributes I find; I am just as often amused by the same. I hope when I go that someone has the presence of mind to send a big-ass wreath with a pink princess phone and a glittery banner that proclaims Jesus Called, Susan Answered.

This is the Jackson grave at Blue Water Cemetery in Dublin, Georgia.
As you can see, Walter died in 1968, survived by Ruby, who died in 2000.
If you look closely, you can see that the oval thing in the middle is a portrait
of Walter and his Ruby. Upon inspection, I believe it might be a photo
that was screenprinted on porcelain or some sort of enamel.

Now, look at this close-up of the oval above. If I were Ruby,
and please understand that I don't even know the Jacksons
in question, I would have wanted an updated photo of myself,
if not painted herewith, then certainly an additional one upon
my death. Do you suppose she took flowers every December
21 and regretted her choice of eyewear for 32 years?