Visiting Paul....

What is really weird is that I have been thinking about death a lot lately. Not like I want it to happen to me or anyone, but that it's a natural part of life. I realize many of my entries over the last couple of months have mentioned it, and also I tend to post more when I 'm depressed. Thursday I had to leave work early to take Avalon to the doctor, and while returning home I passed the cemetery where the brother of an old friend is buried. On a whim, I turned into the drive, parked, took Avalon out of her carseat, and tried to find Paul's headstone. It took a while, I haven't really been back there since the funeral. When I finally did, I was shocked to realize how long ago it was - 1979! I was still in high school, the beginning of my senior year. I remembered at the time I never wanted anyone to tell lies at my funeral the way they did Paul's. Paul was a whiny bratty kid, and anyone who said he never complained didn't know him very well. He did have a hard life though; his kidneys had failed and he had to go to dialysis several times a week and he was plagued with health problems. He also wasn't the best looking guy in the world. I figured we could give him a little company. His parents live in Flagstaff now so I'm sure he doesn't get many visitors. We sat there on the grass for a little bit, then wandered around and looked at some of the other stones. Avalon was quite happy to be outdoors being carried around, looking at the sun through the leaves, and watching the workers digging with a Bobcat across the road.

California has such boring cemeteries; all the headstones have to be perfectly flat and flush with the ground so they can just run the mower over them. Only the older cemeteries have upright stones. The one I used to live near in Dover, New Hampshire was much more interesting; some of its stones predated the Civil War and it was still in use. Much smaller town though.

And now this happens. Maybe I was having premonitions, although I usually leave that psychic shit to my Irish husband. He mentioned he's been feeling a 'presence' around lately that he told to go away.

I need to get back to him - he need a lot of comforting right now, and for a long time to come, I'm afraid.

Visiting Paul....

What is really weird is that I have been thinking about death a lot lately. Not like I want it to happen to me or anyone, but that it's a natural part of life. I realize many of my entries over the last couple of months have mentioned it, and also I tend to post more when I 'm depressed. Thursday I had to leave work early to take Avalon to the doctor, and while returning home I passed the cemetery where the brother of an old friend is buried. On a whim, I turned into the drive, parked, took Avalon out of her carseat, and tried to find Paul's headstone. It took a while, I haven't really been back there since the funeral. When I finally did, I was shocked to realize how long ago it was - 1979! I was still in high school, the beginning of my senior year. I remembered at the time I never wanted anyone to tell lies at my funeral the way they did Paul's. Paul was a whiny bratty kid, and anyone who said he never complained didn't know him very well. He did have a hard life though; his kidneys had failed and he had to go to dialysis several times a week and he was plagued with health problems. He also wasn't the best looking guy in the world. I figured we could give him a little company. His parents live in Flagstaff now so I'm sure he doesn't get many visitors. We sat there on the grass for a little bit, then wandered around and looked at some of the other stones. Avalon was quite happy to be outdoors being carried around, looking at the sun through the leaves, and watching the workers digging with a Bobcat across the road.

California has such boring cemeteries; all the headstones have to be perfectly flat and flush with the ground so they can just run the mower over them. Only the older cemeteries have upright stones. The one I used to live near in Dover, New Hampshire was much more interesting; some of its stones predated the Civil War and it was still in use. Much smaller town though.

And now this happens. Maybe I was having premonitions, although I usually leave that psychic shit to my Irish husband. He mentioned he's been feeling a 'presence' around lately that he told to go away.

I need to get back to him - he need a lot of comforting right now, and for a long time to come, I'm afraid.