The day began with the sound of the alarm at 4:45 a.m. Normally I don't have trouble awakening in the morning, even at that hour, but for some reason it was hard this time, which perhaps signaled what the rest of the day had in store.
I exaggerate a bit. It could have been much worse.
The predawn drive to the airport went well, and I had a few hours to try to tackle the work that piled up over a very busy weekend. Okay, let's be honest; there's plenty of work still piled up from end-of-the-year days spent enjoying myself out of town, not to mention all that comes with setting up a new computer...but that which accrued over the weekend would have been sufficient.
The main even of the day, or so I thought, was attendance at the interment of my aunt. (Funeral-related activities were part of what had made an already-busy weekend seem a bit stretched.) This required a drive to Daytona Beach, so I decided to go early and take advantage of the fact that the library, with its genealogical resources, is less than 10 minutes away from the cemetery. I didn't make any finds of note, but did get to know its resources a little better.
It was a lovely day, sunny and cool, and the ceremony was brief. The grief that always accompanies loss was mitigated by a number of factors: my aunt was less than a month shy of her 90th birthday, had lived a long and satisfying life, and was sure of her hope of heaven; my cousins had the burden of all the arrangements; and best of all it was an reason to get together with people whom we don't see often enough, including some we seem to be in the habit of seeing only every 19 years. The fact that they live in Costa Rica is no excuse for people who seem to have recently developed the habit of travelling the world to visit family. Compared with Japan and Switzerland, Costa Rica is practically next door.
It seems odd to say that the day went downhill from there, but it did. First was negotiations with the cemetery people over gravestones. This particular cemetery is under new management, the previous owner now being incarcerated himself, not in a tomb but in a prison cell, due to certain business irregularities such as misplaced bodies. Apparently two of the missing ones ended up in our family plot. There must be few things more disconcerting than getting such a call from the cemetery: "We're terribly sorry, but we won't be able to bury your loved one in her own grave, next to her husband, as planned; our investigations have revealed that that spot is already occupied." A solution was found—there was an empty spot nearby—but one can only hope that the new management is doing a better job.
I was part of the gravestone meeting because my mother is buried there (I hope!) and there is a spot reserved for my father (free of other bodies; they checked), and we are trying to clean up the mess the previous owners made of everything—stones broken or missing, not to mention the extra, unknown bodies (not just one but two were found). All in all it was a very distasteful process. Perhaps they hope not to scare people away by the large price tag, but I think it was worse to have it come piecemeal. $2300 for this, $1300 for that, $600 here, another $600 there, every time we turned or asked another question there was another fee. And the rules! A casket or urn is not sufficient; each must be put, not directly into the ground, but into a buried vault. The vault is labelled and sealed, so perhaps the hope is to avoid further misplacement of bodies, but it does conjure up the image of Yucca Mountain more than peaceful decay and reintegration with the elements of the earth.
Thanks to my genealogy work, I have a newly-acquired appreciation for gravestones and the information inscribed thereon, and as I have grown older, I've come to understand the value of symbols. Our loved ones can be (and are) remembered and honored anywhere, but it is good to have a particular place where those activities are focused. Nonetheless, this day's activities have me leaning more than ever towards having my name inscribed on the existing monument (in a different cemetery) and my ashes scattered if they can't be buried in something more permeable than a heavy metal vault. In any case I see the value of making such decisions, if possible, before they are dumped on our heirs.
This day was long enough I think it deserves to be split into two posts....
