My brother and I have a weekend tradition where we grab some frappuccinos at Starbucks and head to a park for a while to run around and play. Sometimes the park gets a little too crowded and we don’t mind driving around to another park (of his choice) just to get a prime spot on some swings.
I have a little obsession with cemeteries. Not in a creepy, morbid way, but more of a respect for life and elders and where they came from type of way.
I started getting into the cemetery scene (is it a scene? No, probably not) when I was about 12 years old. I went on a trip with my mom and aunt to Boston. Everything was so much older there. We have stuff from the 1800s in Houston, but it’s pretty much just the land that soldiers fought on. We don’t have actual buildings that old. (Well, we might. I didn’t really google.) We toured all the fun things like Faneuil hall, the old churches, and Harvard, but we also experienced the cemeteries. It was neat to tour such historical places and read about the statesmen and founding fathers. While my mother and aunt got excited to visit Paul Revere, John Hancock, and Mother Goose’s graves (hah!), I was busy looking at the cute old people names, like Agnes and Edgar, and picturing what life would have been like back then.
(Btw, Agnes&Edgar would be a really cute name for an old people clothing store, don’t you think? They could sell Birkenstocks and suspenders all day long.)
This particular Saturday, the parks were full of junior high basketball players. yuck. Middle school kids are full of attitude and B.O. and I didn’t really feel like being around them, so I decided to introduce my brother to my love of cemeteries. I haven’t quite found one that’s really cool in our area, but there happened to be one down the street from our Starbucks, so that was the lucky winner.