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Visitation

Tonight was Bill's visitation. I was right on one thing--I did see a bunch of distant relatives I've never met before who knew me only as my grandmother's granddaughter. This, at least, made sense, considering Bill was her brother. But then were a few people who saw me and asked me how I was related to Bill, and when I told them, they started babbling away. One person stayed in Grandmother and Granddaddy's motel in south Georgia about thirty years ago, she told me. (I told Grandmother about this person later. She didn't know this person until she found her herself.) Another was Bill's barber, she said. Before she left, she realized who I was and said, "I know you."

"I don't know you," I said. I really didn't recognize her from anywhere.

"How are you related to Bill?"

"I'm his sister's granddaughter."

"Which one?" she asked. I told her.

"That's why." We probably met at the nursing home while she was cutting his hair or something; I don't remember.

I did discover the lounge area and started eating on the sweets. Someone brought éclairs. Mmm. When Motel Lady discovered who I was (gods, that makes me sounds like some snooty celebrity), she told the group of people around her who I was, too.

"You know there's a restaurant called Sujin Subs?" she asked me.

"How do they spell it?" I asked.

"S-U-J-E-N," she replied.

"I'll have to pay them a visit," I told her. Then I added jokingly, "Tell them they got it wrong."

After awhile, though, I got bored of this. Maybe this explains my lack of steadiness in...well, anything--I get bored of it after awhile. Mum and Dad were showing no signs of wanting to leave; after all, visitation ended in half an hour anyway, so we might as well stay. So I went outside to explore the cemetery next to the funeral home.

I love cemeteries, but this one has to be the most confusing one I've been in. It's beautiful--statues and gardens everywhere--but there's no real pattern to the graves. If you were looking for, say, a 2006 grave, you couldn't just start at the beginning and start walking. You could find a pattern in some of the really old ones (as in the 40-year-old ones), but not in the new ones. It was interesting.

They also apparently bury some people above ground in that one. I know they do that in New Orleans so the bodies don't just wash away, but this was on top of a hill. Hrm.

Must sleep, funeral tomorrow.

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( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
bluefate
Aug. 3rd, 2007 03:00 am (UTC)
The cemeteries I've been to seem to be organized by family...? ..though, I've never really thought about grave organization.

...mm...éclairs..

Yeah, I don't picture you as sponsoring a sub sandwhich place....as far as having random things that share your name.
http://elaine.com isn't food related, but I'm fairly satisfied with it.

The actual funeral is my least liked part.
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