Recently I was engaged in a conversation with my wife (Colleen Donahue Witte} that started me thinking of things that had happened when we lived Duluth, MN and of dying and of graveyards.
We had bought a home on London Road in a lovely area across from Lake Superior. While we lived there we enjoyed walking along the Lake Superior shore. Very near our home was a small lovely looking cemetery situated on a slope gently leading down to a small cliff overlooking Lake Superior. We very often walked by it and at times would walk through it.
When we bought our house, the intention was to remain there for the rest of our days. I remember that I would joke that the only future move that I was going to make would just be across London Rd and down a couple of blocks. I of course was referring to the cemetery.
I remember that we wondered if burial plots were available in the nice little cemetery. I did some checking at a local funeral home and found that it was the oldest cemetery in Duluth. Further I found that lots were available and who I could contact. My wife and I talked it over and thought in the interest of planning ahead that we should look into the matter. I called the contact person and made an appointment to see what was available and the cost etc.
The man showed us four available plots and left us to consider what we would do.
I told my wife that she could choose which two to take. I recall how she would walk back and forth between the two sites which were separated by some distance. I would follow. She would ask questions such as “at which end of the site will our heads be.” She would then think some more and say something like, “This site doesn’t have as good of a view of the lake, or this one is further
away.” or “This would be the best if we could be sure that our heads would be on this end”. And on it went for about three quarters of an hour. She thought and pondered and walked and pondered and thought. Suddenly she said abruptly, “I don’t like this place!! I don’t want to be buried here!!!” I remember laughing because I knew now as then, that it was the thought of being buried that had suddenly gotten to her. I knew then that it would be best not to take her grave hunting anymore. Someone else would have to tend to that matter.
I had really wanted to get a place there and at that time was a little angry about her ways. But later I thought it was just as well because we left London Rd and moved far away. Besides the site I wanted probably required your head to be on the wrong end and “I wouldn’t get a good view of the lake”!!!.