AJAX CLEANING PRODUCT

Today, I decided to go to the cemetery and take my Dad some flowers.
My Dad was a landscaper, and he loved plants and flowers. So I think he probably liked them, you know watching down from heaven and all. I was there for quite some time, 2 1/2 hours, and didn’t even get a good picture of his headstone, because of my 50mm lens it was hard to get a good one on the crazy hill he is buried on.

I finally remembered to bring stuff to really clean his headstone with. I brought my old toothbrush, paper towels, windex, bottles filled with water, and a bottle filled with a little olive oil. I scrubbed his headstone which is bronze as best I could, until my old toothbrush filled with so much sap I couldn’t use it anymore. Then I poured the oil on it to shine it up. It was so dull, and from the lawn mowers going over it, it has taken a lot of the gold off the letters.

Afterwards, I just kinda sat there. I watched other people come and bring their loved one’s flowers, and kinda watched what their rituals were. Some people came and hung out with kids and sat there on blankets like they were at a park hanging out. You could hear the kids laughing loudly & calling to each other. Which I don’t know. I think if people are near, kids should be told to be quite. Some people brought their flowers, cared for the headstone, and stood over it with their heads bowed for a good 10 minutes. Then took a look around and walked back to the car. Some just brought flowers and left. I saw two woman bring flowers, pray and sit and chatted for a bit. Some looked sad, some happy, and some sullen. I think I take more of the sullen approach when I am alone. Quite and Thoughtful.

I like to clean up my Dad’s headstone, look at it for a little. For some reason I like to take a picture of it every time I go, as if I’m taking a picture of my Dad or something. Then I like to just sit there and think about him. I also enjoy hearing the soft breeze blow through the trees, and hear the sounds of the cars drive by occasionally. Like I am soaking up the sounds of my Dad’s "house". What he would hear, if he could hear. I like looking out and seeing the freeway way out there, and all the tiny cars going by.

It is so peaceful there. So pretty. When I die, I want to be buried there. Near my Dad. I was thinking today, how I wish I had the money, because there are some plots really close to him.

Then I drove up to where my Dad’s funeral was held. I had big plans of going there, and going inside. Seeing what it really looked like, compared to my memories of a 10 year old girl. The church is gorgeous on the outside. It is located at the top of the hill, and as I drove up there, I was alone. There was nobody near. It is away from the rest of the expansive cemetery.

I pulled up to the church and got out. As I walked up, I got really apprehensive. I don’t know why. I slowly walked up to the front of the church. The door was to my right, it was a black metal door and had a sign on it stating the visiting hours. It really freaked me out, thinking about going in there.

In front of me and to the left of the church was a huge plaque in stone with a prayer or something on it. I literally pushed myself to walk up to it and take a picture. After that, I walked fast back to my car. I pulled around the round street and stared at it from afar. I remember going to my Dad’s funeral. I remember having to go to the bathroom, and trying to find it. I somehow wandered out through this little door on the side of the church, and seeing the hearse with my Dad’s casket inside of it. I remember freezing and staring at it, and then running as fast as I could back inside. I had that same feeling today. Maybe one day I will go inside if I have someone with me.

What could I do? They're neighborhood kids. Though mom came running out to double check if I was with the CPS. Then they proceeded to ruin my car by spraying Windex all over it. Live and learn. I think my camera made the parents nervous -- they were a pretty hard looking crowd.