Well, I realized that I left one photo off from yesterday.
Well, last day in Florida. Luckily our plane doesn’t leave until 7pm, so we actually had a decent amount of time during the day to hang out. So one thing we did was go to the cemetary to visit my Grandmother’s grave. The last time I was in Florida was actually for her funeral, so this was the first time I visited the cemetery since then.
There’s always been something strangely spiritual about cemeteries to me. In the neighborhood where I grew up, there was a pretty large cemetery within a block, and I often would go there as a kid and read all the gravestones. There were some even from the 1800s, and I always felt an odd spiritual connection with the people there. As if their whole story was sitting there before me, and all I had was a hint at it. One phrase, a birth date, and a death date.
I don’t know what it is, but I never found it that morbid of a place, but a fascinating place filled with history.
But at the same time, it’s hard when it’s someone close to you to not imagine yourself in their place. At some point, I will be 6 feet underground, and that’s a sobering thought. At some point, all of those I love will be there too. It’s always difficult to comprehend your own mortality.
That’s actually the empty plot right next to my grandmother which has been saved for my grandfather. Imagine how sobering that is. To have your own grave plot ready for you.
So many sobering thought, and a couple tears did fall, most of all because I just miss my grandmother. She was an incredible woman, and luckily she passed off a lot of her characteristics to my mother; her strength, her sense of humor, and of course her cooking.
We headed back, and then me and the two Foster ladies (my mom and sister) and I headed out to do a little bit of clothing shopping, and eventually my sister, brother in law, and I headed back to the airport and back to the freezing cold north.
Not to mention back to my niece Lucy.
All in all it was a wonderful trip, and I can’t wait to make it back to the keys again. And, of course, it was great to see my grandfather, and to spend time with my family. I love them to death, and I seriously don’t know another family that laughs as much as we do. I’m truly blessed.
And oddly enough, on my drive back to Chicago, the sun slowly started to disappear, and when I got in Chicago, I didn’t see it for the rest of the day (and in fact, have barely seen it since then).
Good to be back home.
I am with you on the cemetery thing. The town I grew up in has a very old cemetery. As for being buried you can always be cremated. I’ve told Craig that I will spread his ashes over Wrigley Field and Spartan Stadium even if I can only toss out little handfuls in secret at a game.
In one of my favorite books, Gene Wolfe’s “Book of the New Sun”, a ragged orphan boy loves to play in a ruined mausoleum at the center of a ruined graveyard. He comes to love the place; it allows him to peer through tiny slits of windows and spy on animals, undetected. Unbeknownst to him, it is actually his own ruined tomb from when he died, centuries before, as the ruler of the earth, through several quirks of relativity caused by interstellar travel.