My twice-yearly trek to The Bronx to visit my maternal grandparent’s gravesite and my mother’s favorite aunt, relations I’ve never met in the flesh.
The cemetery is 400 acres of beauty, with green rolling hills and huge rock outcroppings. There’s a gorgeous pine tree close to my grandparent’s grave, and an enormous tree by my great aunt’s burial site, both are as healthy as can be.
I would’ve never thought a cemetery could be peaceful, but at 64, it’s nice to feel safe, protected and loved as if I were a child. I never want to leave.
The Photo: The grave keepers have allowed my books to remain, along with my dual-citizen papers that I received because of my grandpa Carlo.