a friends blog recently spoke of his affinity for cemeteries. feeling kindred spirits, i too decided to share. i have always been fascinated with death and dying. i realize that sounds morbid and strange, but i believe it to be neither. everyday, the first thing i read in the newspapers is the obits. i have done so since i was a kid. when i was 12, my godmother died, hours after giving birth to my "cousin". after the baby came, i remember bugging my mom to go visit them at the hospital. she declined, saying we'd go in a day or two, when they were both home and comfortably on their feet etc. this obviously did not happen, and the next time i saw my godmother was at the funeral home. my first. a year or so later, a 13 year old neighbor died when she was hit by a car. my second. in high school 3 of the 4 of our group lost their moms to cancer. a year later, the 4th of our group lost his mom when her car was hit broad-side. since then, i have had the misfortune of attending countless funerals. i have lost so many that were near and dear to me. a friends uncle recently died, and i was surprised to learn that this was her very first funeral. can you imagine? almost 40 years old and never losing anybody you cared about? what a sweetly naive concept. two days ago i attended the funeral of a landlord we had back in the early 1980's. sue was a very active 88 years old and was water skiing just last summer. thruout her life, she had visited all but two continents. the woman was an inspiration and the packed little church served as testimony to how many broken hearts she left behind. a week seldom goes by where i don't know at least one person who has left this world. i read obituaries of complete strangers and wonder why they died. i slow down at cemeteries when i see limo's and hearses, feeling oddly "left-out". when my daughter was young, on a warm day, we'd often drive to one of the local cemeteries just to walk around. we'd read inscriptions together and imagine the lives they had led. sadly, we admired the pretty flowers left all alone. sometimes, the dumpster in the corner would be overflowing w/ perfectly gorgeous baskets of flowers, placed by well-meaning landscapers simply trying to do their jobs. my daughter and i would pull out the most perfect ones, take them home and hang them upside down to dry. we hung them around our kitchen windows and received many comments over the years. only our closest friends knew that not all of those bouquets were gifts from our husband/dad. some were gifts from complete strangers who had become our friends.
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