Just above my Mother's writing desk in the front parlor hung a picture of a beautiful woman wearing a locket. I would often find my Mother gazing at the dainty image encircled in the frame, mesmerized by this mysterious soul.
One day when sitting at the desk answering her correspondence I ventured over to ask about the woman in the photograph. And so at the young age of five, cradled gently on my Mother's lap the story began to unfold...
She was my namesake, my great grandmama Weltha. Mother of my Mother's father Moses the tintype was taken in 1862 a week before her beloved husband Everitt marched off with his Massachusetts regiment to fight in the Civil War.
Within the locket was his photograph always encircling her neck. My great grandpapa carried the image of his adoring wife, mother of his two sons away to battle in the breast pocket of his uniform close to his heart.
Everitt was killed at Gettysburg July 1863. It was there that his body was laid to rest amongst his fellow soldiers.
Several months later a young lad who served with those men returned to his hometown bringing the photograph and a letter to Wealtha. Both the letter and the locket accompanied Wealtha to the grave.The beautiful woman that gazed down from the frame remained in my heart forever...
