This past weekend I went back to the old homestead in Lorain, OH, hence the earlier plight about knowing someone 90 years old. I also used it as a time to visit my parents in their final resting place, Calvary Cemetery, and leave some flowers. I got them some carnations, as they were some of my Mom’s favorites, and apologized to my Dad as he generally found putting flowers on a grave kind of silly, usually saying things like he’d rather see them while he was living. As I cleaned up the headstone a bit, I filled them in with some of the goings on with
my life, I suppose just in case as they are now floating around in the ether somewhere, or up in Heaven, or whatever happens when you die, and they haven’t had a chance to keep tabs on me, maybe focusing more on my sister as her family life is a little more, hmm, interesting than mine for the most part.
They didn’t answer back.
That’s okay, it was kind of nice, therapeutic even, having a little chat with them, then I told them “I love them,” to be well, and I would check in with them again, later. While roaming the cemeteries, I also chatted a tad with my Aunt Marce and Uncle John Mattey, as their graves were near my parents, made a quick stop by my Great, Great Granparents Lopatkovich to say “Hello,” (they have a cool gravestone, although it needs some sandblasting), and went to visit my Grandma and Aunt Lily, and a quick stop by my Uncle Ed and his wife Emma. Each time I said “Hello,” wished them well, and also wondered “If you die, and can “fly” around this world, why would hang out near your grave waiting for visitors? Oh well, the experience did lead to today’s plight: Do you talk to “dead” people at the cemetery?
That’s it for this plight! I’m The Dude on the Right!! L8R!!!