Cemetary Wall

The 1840's brick walled cemetary which is located in what is now almost the parking lot of IKEA is where my family remains rest. Or are buried and lie there still? Well, its where we are put when we die. At least where they put what is left of us after cremation. My dad jokes that there is standing room only left, at least in our plot. And it is where I go to talk to my mom sometimes. (Although I talk to her lots of other times too, this is just a more formal thing where I take in my coffee and some flowers or an angel or something and sit by her grave and think about her)











Well, I see that I didn't finish my last posting on cynism ... and that was back in May. Spring and summer passed without a word, my garden flowered and faded without a glance, the kids did their thing and I did mine with very little engagement of any sort, and the trees are still here and so am I, but the cemetary wall is falling down. A combination of natural forces and vandalism. Interesting why one is considered vandalism and the other is natural forces.