A month or so ago I was breezing down Walk Hill Street on my way back home from something or other and passing New Calvary, I remembered that even though my mother and i had gone to the cemetery the day her Aunt Catherine McIntyre was buried, we had arrived a little late and the workers (having seen other family come and go) thought it best that we not get too close to the actual burial site as they were filling it in.
So, I figured on the day I was breezing through that I should seek out Auntie Kay's final resting place and give my regards as I was already in the neighborhood anyways...
During my generation people tend to travel and spread with some quickness so I would not think it so common to see groups of the same families in modern cemeteries but since Auntie Kay's parents traveled from Ireland lived thier lives here and most were buried here amongst their own, who am I to say my generation travels more. perhaps we are simply less inclined to care if we are as close to each other in the ever after, who knows...
What I do know is that this particular cemetery is PACKED with familiar names from my ancestry and even though i could not find a stone with Catherine Cummings McIntyre's name on it, I did find many others that I was happy to give my regards to.
For now,
She has pleanty of company amongst friends and family.
And about a billion other Irish families whose journeys all ended together at the same place.
It really was a beautiful place smack dab in the middle of a bustling city. Kind of makes me think that although there are plenty of beautiful suburban cemetaries full of wide open spaces and sounds of silence, perhaps I'd like to be buried somewhere like New Calvary.
You can almost hear the chatter of the ghosts over the sounds of the city,
"Didja see that accident over on Columbus?"
"Didja see that hootchie comeing out of the wig shop? Where are her parents?"
"Hey! That kid just tossed litter over the fence! In my day that never would have ahppened..."
