Monday, September 22, 2003
i like where this is headed
while other kids went to the park, my family went on outings to the cemetary. my dad would drive the "wagon" up and down the narrow paths, and we'd press our faces to the windows while my dad read the names outloud.
J.J. Hamm
Cecilia McDuffett
Clever Hawkings
we would park the car and wander over the graves. not on, because i respected the dead. i'd stare at the graves with the flowers and the ones that didn't have any would always make me sad. i loved the big statues of angels and crosses. the behemoth tombs were always the most intriguing. i always pictured my grave with a huge stone swan, arms spread, watching over me.
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i almost had a little brother. my mom said he looked just like me, and i just knew that we would have had tons of fun together. i imagine what he would be like now -- sixteen, tall, handsome. and gay, i think. but he's in the ground now.
i remember standing there at his funeral. i never got to see the body, just a hole in the ground where it was. a priest was there and he made a sermon. a small one. no one was there except for my family. just the three of us standing over the baby's section of the cemetary. when the priest walked away, i whispered into my mother's ear, "what does amen mean? is it like almonds?"
every month my mom would place flowers on brian's grave. he always had flowers.
______________________________
my mother's father died when i was about five. she cried on the phone as she sat up against the cubbards in the kitchen. she sobbed japanese into the reciever. i didn't cry when i saw grandpa. i would miss him but i didn't cry. he looked really peaceful there. resting and beautiful. i didn't go with them where he was buried, i stayed with this woman named barbara who watched all the kids there. i remember guessing her age and telling her she was 27. i think she was flattered. i remember being scared i would guess too old. she laughed and smiled.
i never saw barbara again. i don't know how she knew the family.
______________________________
i haven't been to a funeral in ages, but i still enjoy stopping into cemetaries. small ones. nothing here in boston, because it's too famous. it's been done. the last time i went, it was just my mother and i. we stumbled upon a whole family in one plot. the mother had four children who all died at young ages. i remember thinking she must have been lonely, but in death she would never be alone.
¶ 8:56 PM
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while other kids went to the park, my family went on outings to the cemetary. my dad would drive the "wagon" up and down the narrow paths, and we'd press our faces to the windows while my dad read the names outloud.
J.J. Hamm
Cecilia McDuffett
Clever Hawkings
we would park the car and wander over the graves. not on, because i respected the dead. i'd stare at the graves with the flowers and the ones that didn't have any would always make me sad. i loved the big statues of angels and crosses. the behemoth tombs were always the most intriguing. i always pictured my grave with a huge stone swan, arms spread, watching over me.
______________________________
i almost had a little brother. my mom said he looked just like me, and i just knew that we would have had tons of fun together. i imagine what he would be like now -- sixteen, tall, handsome. and gay, i think. but he's in the ground now.
i remember standing there at his funeral. i never got to see the body, just a hole in the ground where it was. a priest was there and he made a sermon. a small one. no one was there except for my family. just the three of us standing over the baby's section of the cemetary. when the priest walked away, i whispered into my mother's ear, "what does amen mean? is it like almonds?"
every month my mom would place flowers on brian's grave. he always had flowers.
______________________________
my mother's father died when i was about five. she cried on the phone as she sat up against the cubbards in the kitchen. she sobbed japanese into the reciever. i didn't cry when i saw grandpa. i would miss him but i didn't cry. he looked really peaceful there. resting and beautiful. i didn't go with them where he was buried, i stayed with this woman named barbara who watched all the kids there. i remember guessing her age and telling her she was 27. i think she was flattered. i remember being scared i would guess too old. she laughed and smiled.
i never saw barbara again. i don't know how she knew the family.
______________________________
i haven't been to a funeral in ages, but i still enjoy stopping into cemetaries. small ones. nothing here in boston, because it's too famous. it's been done. the last time i went, it was just my mother and i. we stumbled upon a whole family in one plot. the mother had four children who all died at young ages. i remember thinking she must have been lonely, but in death she would never be alone.
¶ 8:56 PM
|
