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The Cemetery is "Home" for me.

Meeting

Board Meeting

January 19th, 2013

10:00 AM - 12:00 Noon

Gallops Senior Center

Linwood Playground (Corner of 15th Street and 13th Avenue)

My Angels

Clean Up @ the Cemetery

"Pack some hedge clippers if you choose the road less taken." Empathinc. (Facebook)

Precious are the Dead That Lie There

James Richard Patrick 

and 

Audie Kilgore Patrick

“The centripetal force on our planet is still fearfully strong, Alyosha. I have a longing for life, and I go on living in spite of logic. Though I may not believe in the order of the universe, yet I love the sticky little leaves as they open in spring. I love the blue sky, I love some people, whom one loves you know sometimes without knowing why. I love some great deeds done by men, though I’ve long ceased perhaps to have faith in them, yet from old habit one’s heart prizes them. Here they have brought the soup for you, eat it, it will do you good. It’s first-rate soup, they know how to make it here. I want to travel in Europe, Alyosha, I shall set off from here. And yet I know that I am only going to a graveyard, but it’s a most precious graveyard, that’s what it is! Precious are the dead that lie there, every stone over them speaks of such burning life in the past, of such passionate faith in their work, their truth, their struggle and their science, that I know I shall fall on the ground and kiss those stones and weep over them; though I’m convinced in my heart that it’s long been nothing but a graveyard. And I shall not weep from despair, but simply because I shall be happy in my tears, I shall steep my soul in emotion. I love the sticky leaves in spring, the blue sky — that’s all it is. It’s not a matter of intellect or logic, it’s loving with one’s inside, with one’s stomach.”

                                   - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Neighborhood Views

It has been my self-appointed duty to preserve and protect family photos. The one above was reproduced from a negative in one of those yellow Kodak envelopes.
Front row: Glenda Morris, Danny Hemby and Larry Williams. Standing: Susie Morris. Back row: Verna Patrick Lipsey, Mamie Patrick Riggs, Maude Patrick Griffin, Ola McQuagg Patrick, and Claud Patrick.
The house on the right is where I spent my first years of life.
All of the adults are buried in Patrick Cemetery except for Verna, she is in Riverdale.

Family

Grasping the concept of family seems more difficult in the climate of today. Perhaps the mobility, the media, and class issues contribute to the downfall of family. My family disappeared when my Mother died. I held on to whatever I could and Carole was it for me. Family is not always by blood, it's about common experience. Perhaps for some, those experiences are divisive, too many depressing, catastrophic memories. Sometimes it is felt the best thing is to just let it all go. Carole and I never said, "don't let go." We just held on, through dark and sunny days. We have hurt each other, but forgiveness runs deep in our relationship. I feel lucky to have this shared experience from childhood. Carole and I can reminisce about people only she and I may have a common memory of their existence. We shared our Mothers, each in our own way. We share her sisters and shared my brother, each in our own way. We feel completely comfortable with a quick phone conversation, just to touch base. Sometimes a month or two can pass and we don't call. But, we always do, doesn't matter who calls first. We just talk.