Whenever I feel overwhelmed, which has been almost daily the past few years. I drive down to Heritage Memorial Park and go for a walk. I know it sounds weird. (Readers of my work should be used to me by now.) But I do have my reasons. It’s quite a nice place to go, if you don’t mind the thought of people’s remains six feet under. For one it’s always peaceful, as pretty much everyone there is resting in peace, so it’s a good place to think and pray, and to lose yourself in the stories of your mind. Then there’s the reminder that there’s an ending to all of this – a literal deadline to life. That no matter how great or how tough or how exciting or discouraging life can get there’s an ending, and that being alive is a treat in itself so we might as well make the most of it. Perspective is the difference between a problem and a challenge, danger and adventure, a hole and an opening, and… I can’t think of anything else.

Anyway, the real blame for my cryptic choice goes to my mom.

When my brothers and I were younger, around the time my dad got it into his head to learn how to rollerblade, my mom decided that we would all go rollerblading at Heritage. A few years back, my parents had bought burial lots there, and my mom wanted us to have “fun” memories of the place when we visit their dead selves in the future. By “we” I mean my brothers and I, our spouses, and all 15 grand children – 5 kids each.

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Me: Everyone. I thought of something fun for us to do while your mom is away.

Adult Kids: What is it?

Me: Why don’t we visit your grandparents.

Adult Kids: But grandpa doesn’t even like you.

Me: Of course he does!

Adult Kids: No he doesn’t. He told us.

Me: He’s just jealous his daughter and wife like me better than him, and I don’t need Viagra. Besides we’re visiting the Bonifacio side.

Youngest Kid: What’s Viagra?

Adult Kids: The dead ones?

Youngest Kid: What’s Viagra?

Me: Yeah! Don’t you miss them?

Adult Kids: Of course we do. But they’re… you know… dead.

Youngest Kid: What’s Viagra?

Me: Well your mother’s parents look old enough to be dead. So what’s the difference?

Adult Kids: Um… We can actually see them?

Me: Took care of that. I already had their faces engraved. It will be fun! We’ll bring the bikes and skates, and have a picnic.

Youngest Kid: What’s Viagra?

Adult Kids: Ask pop.

Me: Everyone be quiet and get in the car.

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Ok, that’s a little far-fetched. The way my parents are going they’ll see their great-grand kids. That’s if we do out part of course. No pressure. No pressure at all.