Yesterday we buried my mother's sister; she was the youngest, and the last of her generation. My sister is the youngest of our generation, with me a close second. A cousin of ours told my sister yesterday, "Well, that's the last of the generation. Now it's our turn. You're the youngest, so you'll watch all of us die off."
Hey, nothing like giving us something to look forward to there, Miss Mary Sunshine.
I have said it before, and I'll say it again--I do not like Easter. I guess it is just a church holiday, and it should be celebrated with grace. Somehow, it seems to me, we have lost the meaning in all the cellophane wrapped baskets, jelly beans, marshmallow peeps, spring clothes, and ham dinners. EG likes Easter, sees it as a special day, but it just depresses me; so I try to make an effort at making it nice.
Luckily, today was unseasonably warm and sunny, too, so we went for a ride. We ended up at Lakeview Cemetery in Cleveland, the burial place of famous Ohioans, and a horticultural wonder, including a hillside full of naturalized daffodils. Tucked in near the Cleveland Clinic, the art museum, and Case Western Reserve University, this cemetery is a wonder of nature, lovely in its respect for the natural, acorns littering the graves, wildflowers sprouting up, and trees blooming around the graves. We walked and looked at the old and new tombstones and the flowering trees and plants, and felt at peace in this lovely place.