tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3547067420689722925.post3715157285852049733..comments2023-08-13T11:58:31.588-04:00Comments on Ghulf Genes: Amusing CoincidenceADhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06408980212433714362noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3547067420689722925.post-1351601024245690052009-09-14T14:20:24.020-04:002009-09-14T14:20:24.020-04:00Remember when we went into Mexico and stopped at a...Remember when we went into Mexico and stopped at a cemetery--and the way it had been decked out? In those regions south of the border the world flows more easily across the Borderzone...ADhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06408980212433714362noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3547067420689722925.post-19603243045549960272009-09-14T12:54:17.370-04:002009-09-14T12:54:17.370-04:00Oh, how lovely these photos are, both on this post...Oh, how lovely these photos are, both on this post and the earlier one. <br /><br />Yes, life is full of action, motion, and what often seems like constant exercise of our senses. This is exhilarating and stimulating. But, with age comes a desire for rest and quiet. While I only feel that fleetingly these days I imagine that it will grow as I age. <br /><br />It's funny though, I always think of the Catholic church as being opposed to cremation. I just looked it up and see that in 1963 the Pope John lifted earlier restictions on the practice.<br /><br />One final thought on the matter. In Bolivia, on the day of the dead, a sort of Memorial Day, people take picnic lunches to the cemetery and have big parties. The ceneteries there have big mausoleums in which the caskets are placed, but they tend to be somewhat communal, not individual buildings. Anyway, it is a day of partying with ones relatives, those here and those gone ahead... not peaceful perhaps but, in a way, peaceful in a boisterous, communal way.Moniquehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10736499939969754097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3547067420689722925.post-23348560194844654012009-09-12T12:52:24.746-04:002009-09-12T12:52:24.746-04:00The last time I sat with you on this wrought iron ...The last time I sat with you on this wrought iron bench, I too felt the peace and quiet of this place... Thinking of my parent's and sister's resting place, unvisited by me as yet, I pondered my own tumultuous past and resting place.Brigittehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14002034412151764344noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3547067420689722925.post-90780798052608536502009-09-11T03:13:17.698-04:002009-09-11T03:13:17.698-04:00Cemeteries are nice, quiet places to sit and think...Cemeteries are nice, quiet places to sit and think. On most days at least! At first I thought the second photo was of a part of the columbarium which was NOT under construction and I said to myself, "Wow! That's one popular cemetery! Look at all those old men come to pass the time together in the shade and calm." Then I read that we could enlarge the photos by clicking and I saw that they are construction workers not Grosse Pointe retirees. Here again I first thought they were Portuguese masons as one would find in France, but then on second glance I realized that there are men from all different origines. The whites are probably Polish or Yugoslavian or Roumanian, but there are blacks and hispanics too. Bricklayers of the world unite!<br />I also marvelled at the wrought iron bench... This is a lovely place. We've never walked there together. Perhaps in November...Michellenoreply@blogger.com