33 Ys. 5 Ms. 7 Ds.

This is another of the photos I took yesterday afternoon.  I ate my lunch in the cemetery, and while there took several pictures.  My wife thinks that it's 'weird' that I will occasionally eat my lunch in cemeteries and graveyards (they are different).  She thinks it's creepy that I like to visit graveyards...though, she has encouraged me in this, by buying a tombstone rubbing kit for me.

Cemeteries and graveyards fascinate me - but I feel no real connection to them (perhaps that's why I find them intriguing...)  I've never lived in any one place for more than seven years.  My father's family is scattered across Kansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma.  My mother's family is in southern Indiana. My parents currently live in Wisconsin and I live in Iowa.  But this is only home - for now.  I'll move again (and probably again and again).
It's hard for me to understand the emotional connection people have for graveyards.  (I'm showing my inner Spock, aren't I?)

I've already told my family what I'd like to have done with my remains after I've shuffled off this mortal coil, run down the curtain, and joined the bleedin' choir invisible.  I'd like to have whatever organs are still functional harvested and given to those who need an organ replacement.  The rest should be cremated.  I like the idea of having my ashes (my cremains...) launched into space or having my ashes turned into a diamond.  But, honestly, I doubt I'll notice at that point...

The tombstone in the photo above is engraved with a sobering figure: 33 Ys. 5 Ms. 7 Ds.   Thirty-three years, five months, seven days.
33 Ys. 5 Ms. 7 Ds. by Jeff Carter