Today is the day to reminisce and look at the doors through which we shall all pass one day.
There will not be as many doors as is the Norm (;) unless you think of each grave as a door, and probably we should.
This cemetery of Talamone is another example of how serene, almost cheerful a cemetery can be. And it’s not just because of the sea view. There is something about the way Catholics treat death.
In the meantime, relatives are gathered in another cemetery, in Slovenia, at the grave of my paternal grandmother’s sister, her youngest sibling and the last of them to say goodbye, who will be buried today.
She lived on a farm close to Maribor, and I liked to visit her and her husband very much when little. I drove the tractor there (the word I couldn’t pronounce – I called it “tlaclot”), fraternised with the dogs, rode the chicken (hm…) and observed the busy life on a farm.
And to close with a celebration: my mother’s mother was born on this day. I cannot even imagine how happy she would be to visit me in Italy. I have a hunch that the first thing she’d do is take me to the opera.
Here she is holding me in the dad’s photo I keep showing because I don’t have many here. It was taken next to the house where my uncle still lives, grows lettuce, green beans and radishes, and kindly lets us use his garden for card tournaments (and everything else).
I love it how happy they all look. Mom is so young and beautiful, her father has this satisfied smirk that I sometimes see in the mirror, uncle looks like a rock star, great-grandmother I barely remember, and grandmother is just as cheerful and cheeky as she always was. Just I, with my mother’s eyes, am not so sure yet what this life is all about.
Here is the cemetery that called me from the road. Actually the old church did. I could here it whisper: “I’ve got some doors for you.” Not a shabby place for eternal rest.
And for some silliness, here is another post with Talamone doors.
Photo: © signature mmm (except b&w)