Cemetery Blogging
I am sitting with my grandparents, or should I say next to their stones.
The last week has been a little rough. In the past I would have picked up grandpa and had lunch.
He would ask about the family and laugh at stories about the kids. Sooner or later we’d talk about the challenge of supporting a family and this and that.
I miss those moments. Our relationship had matured. We were friends who could relate to each other.
When he died I lost a confidant. It is really hard not being able to see him.
So I drove out to Eden and here we are together. I am still telling him stories and I imagine that he is still laughing even though I can’t really hear his voice.
It makes me feel better to be here close to him. Sometimes I get upset with life because I feel like I have been robbed of people I love.
But then again I think about what I had and what I have.
Surely things could be worse.
That is all I have to say right now.
Jack's Shack January 23, 2007 at 6:40 am
Hi Val,
I agree. I’d rather loved and loss than never loved at all.
Tamara,
Could be. My grandfather is easy to identify. He has the plaque that is close to the tree. (He so would have loved that.)
Stace,
This too shall pass. I am just glad that I am not saying that about a kidney stone. Oy.
Oreiyenta,
Thank you.
Rivka,
No worries. Thank you.
Shelli,
That is nice.
Shelli January 23, 2007 at 3:24 am
I so get that. Malka is named after my beloved bubbe, z”l.
Her grave is in Oregon, I’m in NY. Each time I go home, I visit her. I miss her terribly.
Anonymous January 22, 2007 at 9:28 pm
By the way, I didn’t mean anything snarky with what I said earlier. No sarcasm should be read into my previous comment. I know nothing is going into my head correctly right now and I just want to make sure nothing comes out incorrectly either. I think it’s really beautiful that you had that kind of relationship with your grandfather.
Anonymous January 22, 2007 at 7:58 pm
I’m sorry for your losses, Jack. Even when we know we have so much in memory and in hand, loss hurts deeply. Your honesty is powerful.
I miss my dad something awful. He died almost three years ago, quickly and unexpectedly. There’s no place for me to go visit because my mom had him cremated and has his remains in a box at her house. She plans to scatter them. The flag given to her by the military for his years of service she plans to give to my younger brother because he’s the surviving male. I feel my memories are my only connection to him.
Jewish laws on burial and death and mourning are, in my opinion, so incredibly sensitive to those of us left behind. If only for that, I wish my parents had been religious Jews. I’m glad you had the chance to go visit him, and that you shared it with us.
Anonymous January 22, 2007 at 4:24 pm
Beautiful post.
May their memory continue to be a blessing.
Stacey January 22, 2007 at 4:10 pm
Sorry the last week has been rough. Hope that changes soon.
My family went every year just before Rosh Hashanah to visit all graves. We would have the Orthodox men say prayers for us at their graves. Looking back, it meant a lot to me.
Tamara January 22, 2007 at 3:55 pm
Well Jack, maybe our grandparents are neighbors. Next time you go out there I’ll have you look for them 🙂
And yes, I’m serious. It would probabally be a nice thing for me to go visit the grave since I’m thinking nobody else does.
Sad isn’t it.
Val January 22, 2007 at 12:57 pm
Beautiful. I know JUST how you feel. I ‘talk’ to my Gram at those times… it’s comforting.
I guess we are lucky to have this pain of missing them, as some people never have anything to miss.
Jack's Shack January 22, 2007 at 7:14 am
Tamara,
That is the one.
Bagel,
Thank you.
Bagel Blogger January 22, 2007 at 2:17 am
Wow Jack thats quite an honest piece of writing. Respect to your grandfather.
Thanks for sharing it with us.
Shalom Aaron
Visit: Bagelblogger
Tamara January 21, 2007 at 11:18 pm
Hi Jack,
Is Eden the one out in the valley off the 405?
If so, say hello to my grandma and grandpa too.
My family was never big on visiting cemetaries.
Oh and it’s beautiful that you have memories and comfort. I never knew my grandparents well enough to have solid memories.