Monday, April 17, 2006

In Memory

[This post was started 4/16/2004]

Today we laid Shira's grandmother, Bess, to rest.

I knew her for many years, as she lived a few blocks away from where Shira and I grew up. She was the quintisential grandmother - kind, generous and very loving.

At 94, she had a remarkable life. From starting off life essentially persecuted in Czarist Russia to ending up in a quiet suburb in Rochester, NY, she truly personfied the American dream.

One story that comes to mind happened a few years ago. I recall watching her inscribe an appointment in her datebook. I watched as she scribbled some nonesense down. I thought, "wow, how sad...she seems to have lost the ability to write."

Someone noticed my confusion and essentially said, "you idiot, she's writing in short hand." Oh. Rule number one - don't assume.

She'll be missed greatly.

On our way out of the cemetary we passed my father-in-law's plot. The ground had been filled with dirt and had fresh grass seed placed on it. It was surrounded by fresh grass, which made it stand out even more. All I could think was, what a metephor. Here was this huge scar on the ground that was starting the long process to recovery.

The photos aren't anything special - the entrance gate to the cemetary and the police office helping to direct the funeral traffic.


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