I feel that I have finally found the perfect solution for my disdain of children’s playgrounds. The cemetery. I know, sounds morbid and a tad disrespectful, but my kids LOVED it. As did I. No annoyingly spastic germy children to pester us and the setting was so peaceful and quiet. Ideal for a summertime picnic. Watermelon, sparklers, coconut suntan lotion and all.
My father died three years ago and whenever I head back to Connecticut I make time in my incredibly hectic and busy calendar to stop by for a visit. IF I CAN FIND HIM. His grave is so difficult to locate even the incompetent semi-comatose office guy had absolutely no idea where his grave was. “It’s somewhere in this area” he said, pointing to the entire map of the grounds. “Would you like a glass of port?” Good gosh.
Turns out I was on my own, so my mother and I parked the car and let the kids run free while I looked for my father.
Reese and Sloane ran, played hide-and-go-seek, smoked cigarettes, turned over tombstones, peed on graves, sang songs, and drank whiskey. They had a fabulous time.
So after what felt like a seventeen hour trek we finally found my dad. I said hello and wondered aloud if he could hear me. I asked him to knock three times on the casket. Silence. I knew it. He was totally giving me the cold shoulder because I didn’t marry a nice Italian boy named Rocco.
I tried. It was a lovely outing and I highly recommend a little visit to your local cemetery for good fun, good food and to reconnect with old friends and family…..
9 Comments
I love cemeteries. I really love the cultures who celebrate IN cemeteries. I recall a motorcycle ride on a Father's Day with my husband where we passed a family picnic among the headstones of the local graveyard. Hey, seems they brought the picnic to Dad. Kids should learn not to fear them – there's so much history there!
I just wanted to leave a general comment about San Francisco, since that is what your blog centers on.
I recently had to go to SF with my family and parked in what I thought was metered parking for cars. It wasn't. It was for commercial parking for loading and unloading, if I am not mistaken. I was only parked there for a few minutes when I decided to go back to my car – and it was gone. It had been towed. I walked the mile or so through an unpleasant part of this wicked city with my young son to the parking garage where I picked it up after paying a large fine. I contested the ticket, and after many mailings telling me they were still reviewing my case, about 6 months later I had to pay the parking ticket for an additional about $60.00. May I never have to go there again…
Thanks for listening,
777denny
My sisters and I used to walk down by the Thames River in CT … there was a tiny little cemetery hidden away, I believe, from the 1700 or 1800's. We loved poking around and musing about the names and dates. We probably should have told someone what we had found. Never occurred to us.
We have a cemetery just behind our house – an old Victorian one which is simply charming. We had some little children round for Sunday lunch recently with their parents and after lunch we took them into the cemetery for a run-around the paths. My 18 year old daughter knew how to entertain them. 'Come with me and I'll show you the creepiest, weirdest graves ever,' she said. They were her adoring companions for the whole day.
As you check in on my blog, you know I love cemetaries. I walk in the cemetary every week, more often if I'm worried about something. Cemetaries totally provide a place of peace and perspective. My vacation photos usually include some cool tombstones I had to stop the car to check out.
When my son was smaller, I would push him in the stroller through the cemetary several times a week. He has always been very verbal, so he would often bring up the dead people under the grass in his conversations with others. As if the people that populate my little world didn't already think I was weird enough– now I was taking my baby to gravesites instead of playdates. I'm with you, cemetaries are so much better than playgrounds. So much more can be learned there.
Wow, I'm not the only weirdo that loves a good cemetery! Perhaps my kids can take up the profession of gravedigger so I can visit them at work.
I do love the small old graveyards with the beautiful moss covered tombstones.
Sounds like fun.
After all, before we had public parks people used to go to cemeteries for a nice stroll!
You reflect a healthy attitude toward death in this post. "Cemeteries, Death, Playground, Watermelon" – that's like a zen poem.
Well Mark, I believe a gifted writer such as yourself could whip up a beautiful zen poem about cemeteries, death and watermelon….
Me? Not so much. I can eat watermelon at the cemetery while I think about death and how I despise playgrounds.