I've been thinking a lot about home stewardship in the past few weeks. It's a concept that Erin put a name to a couple years ago that means taking care of your home as things need to be addressed so that it doesn't fall down around your ears.
This has become more thought-provoking lately. We have some neighbors who have largely ignored their home maintenance for roughly the past 20 years and it has caught up to them. We take care of their two cats when they are away so we know more about this house than we would about most neighbors' homes.
They're not great at home cleanliness but that's easily fixed by having a cleaning service come in and whip the place into shape. The problems are larger than that: they have torn out molding, carpeting and fixtures, torn off wallpaper without ever putting anything back together. So things look like they're falling down and off, which they are. For example, the shower in the master bathroom leaked badly about 15 years ago. They stopped using it and eventually removed the glass door and fixture from the stall. The extensive water stains remain on the family room ceiling below along with dark soot from the fireplace and candle burning. Somehow the walls and ceiling in the family room have separated all around the perimeter and there's about an inch gap of exposed studs everywhere you look.
We looked in the main bathroom which they've used for years and, again apparently, the shower fixture was taken down and then put back up with the worst plaster patching job I've ever seen. I could have done better. And the fiberglass stall is slowly being consumed by mildew and mold. Outside, the roof has a plush covering of green moss and the white vinyl siding is gray with dirt and mildew.
We have studiously avoided going to their house for any meals for many years, claiming that John's allergy to cats would act up and be too severe to handle. That's true but it's also true that we just plain didn't want to eat in their house.
Anyway, you can sorta get the idea of how bad the place is. The wife had a good job but quit five years ago to "find" herself (seriously, I hate quote marks used like that but it's the only way I can think of to describe this). The husband was laid off from his (very good) job 18 months ago and has been looking ever since. The wife has been going to classes for (I think) medical or legal transcription but still doesn't have a job.With the utter lack of attention to anything inside or outdoors, I really have no idea what they do with all their time as they both have been home for the last 5 years/18 months straight.
The husband got a job last week, outside of Denver Colorado so they are now faced with moving. He reports for work in early October. John and I have speculated over the years about how they'd ever sell the house. Our personal opinion is that we'd have to virtually gut the place and begin all over. If someone could do the work, we figure it would take about $25,000 - $50,000 to bring it up to livable conditions.
This house is probably worth $160,000 - four bedrooms, 2.5 baths, full basement, nice half acre lot, hardwood floors throughout, fireplace. Property values in our area have not fallen (and don't rise) as much as other areas of the country -- we're certainly not in a recession-proof area but it just doesn't experience the extreme highs and lows. A comparably well-kept home in a larger metropolitan area would bring upwards of $200,000 easily.
The couple came down last weekend to ask us to take care of the cats while they flew out to find a new place to live. And they told us that they'll be auctioning the house off rather than listing it with a real estate agent and selling it in a more traditional way. We were floored. The floor bid price will be $75,000. They're hoping that someone will get the bidding up above $100,000 (they owe a $92,000 mortgage + $21,000 home equity = $113,000).
OMG! Not only are we concerned for them losing their shirts on this but also for what a crappy winning bid will do to the neighborhood. They'll be gone by the time of the auction and asked us to please attend to help bolster the audience. We want to be there just to see how much of a debacle it will be. It makes both of us cringe.
They admitted (with great incredulity and surprise) that they just haven't maintained the house. The wife said, "You're lucky, Cheryl, because John's so capable of doing all this stuff. We're not." In other words, somehow the condition of their home isn't really their fault because they're not capable and (apparently) helpless to identify contractors and write checks to get projects done. At one time several years ago, they asked for the name of someone to power wash their house. After the estimate came back, they decided it was too expensive so it was never done.
My point back to her was that we've done all this stuff to our house and yard over the last 16 years. And while John is (thank the dear Lord) extremely handy at virtually everything to do with home improvements and maintenance, we have hired the jobs done when he couldn't, wouldn't do or that I wouldn't let him do -- such as climbing on the roof to clean out gutters or reshingle the house.
In little chunks, taking care of your property is not (doesn't have to be) overwhelming and improves your quality of life at the same time it preserves the eventual resale value. We know we've put more money into our home than we'll ever get out of it but we are enjoying the amenities and things we've installed or added to our home -- they make us comfortable, happy and content to be here.
So now I appreciate our home even more than I have. I've been finding tiny projects -- such as vacuuming up tons of dog hair and dust bunnies under our desks among the thousands of cables and vacuuming dust off the fireplace and lampshades -- that help in infinitesimal ways to improve our home. We have a cleaning woman who comes and does the nitty gritty stuff every two weeks but the big projects and detail stuff is all ours. We're fortunate but we're also proactive.
We'll miss these people because they're good neighbors and nice friends. But the process of them moving and what will happen with the house is frightening. Not to mention the pity and trepidation we feel for their unsuspecting landlord in their new place out west.
Any horror stories to share?
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Fingers tired sez Yoda/Bama
When my other paying clients abandon me because they don't have projects for me to do, I have a Web-oriented company for which I do writing. Much cheaper than I should but it's more than minimum wage (you can see how lofty my standards are) and so I do it. And they're steadier, usually, than other clients so I can count on having at least some amount of paying work trickling in.
Not all Web companies have a large cadre of people hard at work in India but this particular one does. We've gone through many different work scenarios but what works best for them (note that this is not necessarily best for me) is for their Indian crew to write the content for the primarily American audience and then have me "Americanize" it. Their theory is that it's less expensive to have the Indians do the writing and then get it fixed by an American. Hey it's fairly steady work and I get to make all the "do you want a Slurpee?" jokes in my head that I want as I listen to a typical Indian male voice speaking their words in my head. Yes, I do hear voices as a matter of fact.
Seriously, I'm not a bigot in any way against any ethnicity or people but after editing and rewriting Indian-written copy for the last three or four years, I can honestly say that most of their workers may know English but they sure don't know American English. I tell my contact person in India the very same thing so I'm not speaking behind their backs. I now understand completely how translation companies in my former corporate life would always insist that translating for French Canada wasn't the same as translating for residents of France.
Some of their phrasing is hilarious and recently I've copied a few of the better ones to keep and share. I'm not sure that the funny will come across but here are some recent samples. My comments are in italics.
*100% genuine guidance and aid whenever required (OK, what is there other than 100% genuine guidance? And I'm not sure which adjective modifies which word there either.)
*Allowing boaters to breathe safely in the water (Really?)
*Seek Professional Assistance For A Good Time In The Sea (For a good time in the sea, call 1-800 Pop-Eye)
*spend time with family and closed ones or friends (OK, this is an innocent typo but I thought it was funny, particularly since Americans would say loved ones, not close ones)
*water related activities like Water Boarding, Waterskiing, ... (I cracked up about this one, terrible as it is. They meant surf boarding, not water boarding, and I sent a comment back to correct this one for the future)
*A recent study did at Stanford University (Like I said, they know English but not all that well)
Last week I committed to an assignment to write 250 articles of 350 words apiece within 25 days. I've been steaming along this week on the writing with words pounding out of my fingers and swirling around my head. While I really love writing, I'm not used to writing promotional advertising copy all that much and find it hard to use the word phenomenal multiple times within a sentence. But at least this was original writing and not correcting massacred English written by young Indians who probably make a couple dollars a day, if they're lucky.
I wrote 10 articles this morning (10 x 350 = 3500 words before noon) and then took a break to go to Target and grocery shopping. When I came back, there's an email telling me to stop immediately on the project. So this beautiful head of steam I have been building up is now completely kaput. But, on the bright side, I have my afternoon and maybe tomorrow back to get ready for company tomorrow evening.
While this is a somewhat steady gig, it is like this a lot. "One step forward, two steps back, nobody gets too far like that," courtesy of Desert Rose Band. Ah well. Find the bright side and keep slogging forward.
Speaking of strange wording, do you have a radio commercial playing currently that talks about a smokeless cigarette? There's a line in the commercial that says, "It’s made by SmokeAway so you know it’s good." Really? What in the blue blazes do I know about SmokeAway and why does just their name assure me that the product is good. This is the frightening power of advertising -- just because they say it's good, you are to assume that it is.
Amazing, huh? Any other crazy ads or incongruous messages/words that you'd like to share? My fingers are tired so I'm gonna stop now.
Not all Web companies have a large cadre of people hard at work in India but this particular one does. We've gone through many different work scenarios but what works best for them (note that this is not necessarily best for me) is for their Indian crew to write the content for the primarily American audience and then have me "Americanize" it. Their theory is that it's less expensive to have the Indians do the writing and then get it fixed by an American. Hey it's fairly steady work and I get to make all the "do you want a Slurpee?" jokes in my head that I want as I listen to a typical Indian male voice speaking their words in my head. Yes, I do hear voices as a matter of fact.
Seriously, I'm not a bigot in any way against any ethnicity or people but after editing and rewriting Indian-written copy for the last three or four years, I can honestly say that most of their workers may know English but they sure don't know American English. I tell my contact person in India the very same thing so I'm not speaking behind their backs. I now understand completely how translation companies in my former corporate life would always insist that translating for French Canada wasn't the same as translating for residents of France.
Some of their phrasing is hilarious and recently I've copied a few of the better ones to keep and share. I'm not sure that the funny will come across but here are some recent samples. My comments are in italics.
*100% genuine guidance and aid whenever required (OK, what is there other than 100% genuine guidance? And I'm not sure which adjective modifies which word there either.)
*Allowing boaters to breathe safely in the water (Really?)
*Seek Professional Assistance For A Good Time In The Sea (For a good time in the sea, call 1-800 Pop-Eye)
*spend time with family and closed ones or friends (OK, this is an innocent typo but I thought it was funny, particularly since Americans would say loved ones, not close ones)
*water related activities like Water Boarding, Waterskiing, ... (I cracked up about this one, terrible as it is. They meant surf boarding, not water boarding, and I sent a comment back to correct this one for the future)
*A recent study did at Stanford University (Like I said, they know English but not all that well)
Last week I committed to an assignment to write 250 articles of 350 words apiece within 25 days. I've been steaming along this week on the writing with words pounding out of my fingers and swirling around my head. While I really love writing, I'm not used to writing promotional advertising copy all that much and find it hard to use the word phenomenal multiple times within a sentence. But at least this was original writing and not correcting massacred English written by young Indians who probably make a couple dollars a day, if they're lucky.
I wrote 10 articles this morning (10 x 350 = 3500 words before noon) and then took a break to go to Target and grocery shopping. When I came back, there's an email telling me to stop immediately on the project. So this beautiful head of steam I have been building up is now completely kaput. But, on the bright side, I have my afternoon and maybe tomorrow back to get ready for company tomorrow evening.
While this is a somewhat steady gig, it is like this a lot. "One step forward, two steps back, nobody gets too far like that," courtesy of Desert Rose Band. Ah well. Find the bright side and keep slogging forward.
Speaking of strange wording, do you have a radio commercial playing currently that talks about a smokeless cigarette? There's a line in the commercial that says, "It’s made by SmokeAway so you know it’s good." Really? What in the blue blazes do I know about SmokeAway and why does just their name assure me that the product is good. This is the frightening power of advertising -- just because they say it's good, you are to assume that it is.
Amazing, huh? Any other crazy ads or incongruous messages/words that you'd like to share? My fingers are tired so I'm gonna stop now.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Gardening excellence - NOT
I am an enthusiastic gardener but, sadly, my thumbs are mostly brown rather than green. I tried growing Norfolk pines in the house for a couple years and killed them each time. It's a mystery as to whether it's too much water, not enough water, too much light, not enough light. It just gives me a headache. We have a few houseplants but only because they're tenacious and have adapted to my unique blend of neglect and over watering.
Outside, we redid our landscaping a few years ago with the help of someone who knew what they were doing. She gave us a new layout, helped us get started with the planting and it has worked. Except now that the landscaping has been in for a few years, some things have died and we've replaced them. In a few cases, I've been feeling my oats and bought things that I wanted to put into the landscaping even though they weren't part of the original plan. Last year, something declined to return and at the bargain time of the year, I bought a butterfly bush and planted it in that area.
This summer, I watched with delight as the plant I thought was a butterfly bush started sprouting and thriving. I have watered the gardens all summer and vigorously pulled or annihilated any invading weeds with RoundUp (though the rubber mulch we put in last year really did do a great job of discouraging most weeds).
Sadly, however, what sprouted in the place of my butterfly bush was NOT a butterfly bush at all but a beautiful stand of .... goldenrod.
Duh.
Immediately after this picture was taken, I went out and cut the goldenrod down. It isn't dead but I'll use RoundUp on the base of it. How embarrassing, huh? All that work to get a weed. Sigh. Better luck next year.
Outside, we redid our landscaping a few years ago with the help of someone who knew what they were doing. She gave us a new layout, helped us get started with the planting and it has worked. Except now that the landscaping has been in for a few years, some things have died and we've replaced them. In a few cases, I've been feeling my oats and bought things that I wanted to put into the landscaping even though they weren't part of the original plan. Last year, something declined to return and at the bargain time of the year, I bought a butterfly bush and planted it in that area.
This summer, I watched with delight as the plant I thought was a butterfly bush started sprouting and thriving. I have watered the gardens all summer and vigorously pulled or annihilated any invading weeds with RoundUp (though the rubber mulch we put in last year really did do a great job of discouraging most weeds).
Sadly, however, what sprouted in the place of my butterfly bush was NOT a butterfly bush at all but a beautiful stand of .... goldenrod.
Immediately after this picture was taken, I went out and cut the goldenrod down. It isn't dead but I'll use RoundUp on the base of it. How embarrassing, huh? All that work to get a weed. Sigh. Better luck next year.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
On a scale of 1 to 10 ....
... this past weekend was a 12. Seriously, no exaggeration. And it had nothing to do with the presents I got, although I received some awesome things! It was a birthday weekend for me, and a relatively big birthday too. The big 60. When I turned 50, I had months of anxiety and dread before the date actually came. It was bad enough that I sought professional counseling to help me get through it. So, in comparison, 60 was a piece of cake (although now that I think about it, I never did have any birthday cake. Hmmmmm). I wasn't anxious, I didn't obsess about my age - nuttin - like it really was no big deal, a non-event.
Johnnie asked me several weeks ago what I wanted to do for my birthday. We're having a big celebration of my 60th and John's 60th (he turns 60 in 2011) this coming February by taking all of our kids on a cruise so that's the big celebration. But birthdays are a big deal to me -- I try to celebrate everyone's birthday as specially as I can. While lots of holidays are enjoyable, birthdays are unique and celebrate the individual as a person -- and that means a lot to me. I send cards to lots of people to remember their birthdays and in our close circle of family and friends, I make as big a fuss as I can for each person's birthday.
So when Johnnie asked, the first thing that popped into my mind was to go miniature golfing and ride go-karts. There's a place in our area that has both activities on site along with a video game arcade. We (Johnnie and me) went there on Sunday with Erin, Mike, Emily and Lucy and we had a blast. It was at least 90 degrees in the shade and we were thankful the place had some shade while we played miniature golf. The little girls did reasonably well at miniature golf. After our game, we took refuge inside for a while to rehydrate and cool off.
For go-karting, Lucy rode with Mike and Emily rode with me. Erin and Johnnie had single karts. I've never ridden in or driven a go-kart before in my life. Emily laughed the entire ride as did Lucy. It was a blast. Hotter'n Billy Blazes but just a blast. As a first-timer (Erin was too) I thought the karts went plenty fast. Johnnie and Mike both were disappointed they didn't go faster. Figures!
On Monday, Johnnie and I took SUNNNNY for a ride and then out to dinner. Another 90+ degree day. It was so hot ("how hot was it?") that we stopped along the way on our ride and put SUNNNNY's convertible top up so we could run the air conditioning more efficiently and cool off. Blessed cool air.
Anyway, it was a perfect birthday and, while I don't remember the details of each of my foregoing 59 birthdays, this one ranked right up there as being just a perfect time.
Johnnie asked me several weeks ago what I wanted to do for my birthday. We're having a big celebration of my 60th and John's 60th (he turns 60 in 2011) this coming February by taking all of our kids on a cruise so that's the big celebration. But birthdays are a big deal to me -- I try to celebrate everyone's birthday as specially as I can. While lots of holidays are enjoyable, birthdays are unique and celebrate the individual as a person -- and that means a lot to me. I send cards to lots of people to remember their birthdays and in our close circle of family and friends, I make as big a fuss as I can for each person's birthday.
So when Johnnie asked, the first thing that popped into my mind was to go miniature golfing and ride go-karts. There's a place in our area that has both activities on site along with a video game arcade. We (Johnnie and me) went there on Sunday with Erin, Mike, Emily and Lucy and we had a blast. It was at least 90 degrees in the shade and we were thankful the place had some shade while we played miniature golf. The little girls did reasonably well at miniature golf. After our game, we took refuge inside for a while to rehydrate and cool off.
Then we went inside again and got 200 tokens that we divided up among the six of us to play the games. It wasn't my most favorite part of the day (go karting was everybody's hands down favorite) it was still fun and it was great to get inside and cool off for a while. Everybody left there grinning from ear to ear.Afterwards we came back to our house where the little girls watched Cars and the grown ups napped. We had a picnic supper on the deck, then went out for ice cream. Yum. No diets this weekend!
On Monday, Johnnie and I took SUNNNNY for a ride and then out to dinner. Another 90+ degree day. It was so hot ("how hot was it?") that we stopped along the way on our ride and put SUNNNNY's convertible top up so we could run the air conditioning more efficiently and cool off. Blessed cool air.
Anyway, it was a perfect birthday and, while I don't remember the details of each of my foregoing 59 birthdays, this one ranked right up there as being just a perfect time.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Summertime Pleasures, take #2
Commenting on my earlier Summertime Pleasures post, Courtney reminded me about how wonderful the smell of newly cut grass is. Definitely one of the best scents in the world. I remember being out in California in January or February one year and smelling newly mown grass near an office building and it transported me right back into summertime in the dead of the cold season (here at least, not in California obviously). Newly mowed grass always smells good but right then it smelled better than anything I can describe.
Another pleasure is listening to the night sounds of the crickets, cicadas and tree frogs with the windows open. Just heavenly.
When I'm working at my computer, usually at least one or possibly both windows are open and the ceiling fan is silently sweeping the air around behind me. I love it when a gentle cool-warm breeze, whether from the fan or coming in from the windows, slips along the back of my neck and reminds me that it's summertime, even if I'm in here working. Or surfing or whatever I'm doing at my desk. Awesome feeling.
I haven't seen them much this year but mostly because I haven't looked but watching fireflies at night. They always seem kind of unearthly and mystical to me. It's great to look over the deck railing into the ravine and focus on the darkness of the ravine and then hone in on the fireflies going on about their business completely heedless of our lives taking place right on the edge of their forested world.
Summertime is pure bliss.
Another pleasure is listening to the night sounds of the crickets, cicadas and tree frogs with the windows open. Just heavenly.
When I'm working at my computer, usually at least one or possibly both windows are open and the ceiling fan is silently sweeping the air around behind me. I love it when a gentle cool-warm breeze, whether from the fan or coming in from the windows, slips along the back of my neck and reminds me that it's summertime, even if I'm in here working. Or surfing or whatever I'm doing at my desk. Awesome feeling.
I haven't seen them much this year but mostly because I haven't looked but watching fireflies at night. They always seem kind of unearthly and mystical to me. It's great to look over the deck railing into the ravine and focus on the darkness of the ravine and then hone in on the fireflies going on about their business completely heedless of our lives taking place right on the edge of their forested world.
Summertime is pure bliss.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Relative found, take #2
As I mentioned in a previous post, I have relatives in lots of places and rarely hear from most of them. Last weekend I received an email from my cousin Mark who (last I knew) lived in Wisconsin. I haven't seen or heard from Mark in roughly 10 years although we send he and his wife a Christmas card and "catch up with what we've done in the last 12 months without boasting and flaunting our accomplishments or airing dirty laundry" Christmas letter each year.
He had found our 2007 Christmas letter and decided to write. Cool! Since we saw him last, he has divorced, remarried and moved to Arizona. (No, I don't know his position on immigration laws and policy.) It was great to have him get in touch and fill me in on a little bit of family news from the Wisconsin connection (his mother is still kickin at 94 and his sister is also getting divorced).
Anyway, I was really tickled to hear from him and have an unsolicited offer to keep in better touch. Yeay! I fired off an email back to him and can't wait to hear more about what's up with him. Another family connection at least somewhat reestablished.
He had found our 2007 Christmas letter and decided to write. Cool! Since we saw him last, he has divorced, remarried and moved to Arizona. (No, I don't know his position on immigration laws and policy.) It was great to have him get in touch and fill me in on a little bit of family news from the Wisconsin connection (his mother is still kickin at 94 and his sister is also getting divorced).
Anyway, I was really tickled to hear from him and have an unsolicited offer to keep in better touch. Yeay! I fired off an email back to him and can't wait to hear more about what's up with him. Another family connection at least somewhat reestablished.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Relatives found
We've lived in this area for 19 years. While Erin and I were transplants from Minnesota before that, my family on both sides is actually from Western New York State, from Buffalo, Rochester, Avon and all the way over to Schnectady. There are relatives scattered here and there from Cheektowaga to Oriskany. You have to love those Indian names, huh?
Anyway, in the 19 years we've lived here, we've visited a grand total of four relatives out of probably 15 or 20. Not a great total. In my/our defense, I never grew up around most of these people and I'm sure none of them could pick me out of a lineup. And vice versa. So getting together with the living ones hasn't really been a priority at any time.
Our friend Bridget and I took a guided hike in an area of our metropolis a couple months ago and the guide mentioned in passing that a large cemetery nearby (where my grandmother and grandfather on my mother's side are buried - that I remembered) had an interactive kiosk on which you could find the graves of the people buried there. Ever since, I've wanted to go there and check it out, finding my maternal grandparents.
So Johnnie and I went there yesterday on a little adventure. Obviously I know their names but my grandfather -- Edward Connor -- has a relatively common name, especially in a state where thousands of first and second generation Irish immigrants settled in the mid-1800s. Luckily, my grandmother's name, while still common, had a unique spelling, Kathryn Connor, so it helped narrow down the search.
The kiosk listed several Edward Connors but the death dates didn't work except for a couple of them. We found my grandmother quickly and printed maps that gave us great directions to both of their supposed gravesites and we were on our way. The first Edward Connor had passed at about the right time (according to my more-than-hazy recollection, almost 45 years later) but my grandmother wasn't buried next to him and I was pretty certain she would be.
We then went in search of Kathryn and found both of them snuggled up to the base of a huge tree that couldn't have been there when they were buried. So we had the wrong Edward Connor to begin with but found them both within the space of half an hour. The neat thing is that, while I doubt that any relatives have visited their graves in at least a decade, the flat in-the-ground markers were cleaned off and easily visible so it was not difficult to read the inscription on their graves or any of their cemetery neighbors.
It was big deal for me who has so few relatives of whom I am aware. It also got me to thinking that I haven't any idea where my paternal grandmother (who lived with us in the Detroit area when she died in the late 1960s) and grandfather (who died in about 1952 or so) are buried. Could be in Buffalo. Could be (grandmother only) in Michigan. But it's a cinch that no one has visited their graves in several decades -- wherever they are. And there's no one left to ask who might have a clue.
So that led to a conversation between Johnnie and me about where (and how) we want to be buried. John's parents are in suburban Ohio but he and I have little reason to be buried there. My mother is interred in Cherry Hill, New Jersey and my dad is buried in Dearborn, Michigan. No relatives living anywhere near those places and fairly far-flung from any destination we ever visit. We haven't been to my mother's grave since she died in 2001. We get to my father's grave about one every decade when we are in Michigan to visit Erin's dad and stepmother.
So figuring out where to plop our remains is a bit of a conundrum. I drive past a cemetery nearby to our house where I see people all the time visiting and tending graves to put up markers or flowers. Our little family is so spread out that I/we have no illusions of frequent visits to pay respects or take care of putting flowers or holiday wreaths on our graves. I've always joked that we're kind of a bunch of nomads and that's true. But it would be nice to think that at least someone in our family was in the vicinity and might stop by once in a while. At least until our granddaughters are grown and they (and/or their offspring) lose the memory and continuity with our lives.
One of those things that causes me to go hmmmmm.We're all going to face it some day. How 'bout you -- any thoughts or great solutions to this issue?
Anyway, in the 19 years we've lived here, we've visited a grand total of four relatives out of probably 15 or 20. Not a great total. In my/our defense, I never grew up around most of these people and I'm sure none of them could pick me out of a lineup. And vice versa. So getting together with the living ones hasn't really been a priority at any time.
Our friend Bridget and I took a guided hike in an area of our metropolis a couple months ago and the guide mentioned in passing that a large cemetery nearby (where my grandmother and grandfather on my mother's side are buried - that I remembered) had an interactive kiosk on which you could find the graves of the people buried there. Ever since, I've wanted to go there and check it out, finding my maternal grandparents.
So Johnnie and I went there yesterday on a little adventure. Obviously I know their names but my grandfather -- Edward Connor -- has a relatively common name, especially in a state where thousands of first and second generation Irish immigrants settled in the mid-1800s. Luckily, my grandmother's name, while still common, had a unique spelling, Kathryn Connor, so it helped narrow down the search.
The kiosk listed several Edward Connors but the death dates didn't work except for a couple of them. We found my grandmother quickly and printed maps that gave us great directions to both of their supposed gravesites and we were on our way. The first Edward Connor had passed at about the right time (according to my more-than-hazy recollection, almost 45 years later) but my grandmother wasn't buried next to him and I was pretty certain she would be.
We then went in search of Kathryn and found both of them snuggled up to the base of a huge tree that couldn't have been there when they were buried. So we had the wrong Edward Connor to begin with but found them both within the space of half an hour. The neat thing is that, while I doubt that any relatives have visited their graves in at least a decade, the flat in-the-ground markers were cleaned off and easily visible so it was not difficult to read the inscription on their graves or any of their cemetery neighbors.
So that led to a conversation between Johnnie and me about where (and how) we want to be buried. John's parents are in suburban Ohio but he and I have little reason to be buried there. My mother is interred in Cherry Hill, New Jersey and my dad is buried in Dearborn, Michigan. No relatives living anywhere near those places and fairly far-flung from any destination we ever visit. We haven't been to my mother's grave since she died in 2001. We get to my father's grave about one every decade when we are in Michigan to visit Erin's dad and stepmother.
So figuring out where to plop our remains is a bit of a conundrum. I drive past a cemetery nearby to our house where I see people all the time visiting and tending graves to put up markers or flowers. Our little family is so spread out that I/we have no illusions of frequent visits to pay respects or take care of putting flowers or holiday wreaths on our graves. I've always joked that we're kind of a bunch of nomads and that's true. But it would be nice to think that at least someone in our family was in the vicinity and might stop by once in a while. At least until our granddaughters are grown and they (and/or their offspring) lose the memory and continuity with our lives.
One of those things that causes me to go hmmmmm.We're all going to face it some day. How 'bout you -- any thoughts or great solutions to this issue?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)