Crown Hill

This morning, everyone woke up early and gathered at Crown Hill Cemetary, to visit our grandfather, David Jung. We all arrived at various times, so there was a good deal of hanging out in front of the main building.

My mother was really taken with the sculpture at the base of the steps, and we all ended up exploring it some more. Turns out, it was a sundial and, after testing it out… a remarkably accurate one, at that.

Andrew, equally fascinated with the sundial.

As tradition dictates, our families line up in front of the dead and we bow three times. Honestly, I’m not sure why this is or what the bowing represents… but I’ve done it for as long as we’ve been visiting. I know it’s a sign of respect, but I feel there’s more to the tradition than just that.

My family seems particularly picture-happy. We ended up posing in front of my grandfather’s grave, and that seemed a bit morbid to me. To have our photos taken in that way. But that’s an initial, immediate reaction. Below the surface, there’s a great deal of happiness behind the desire for a photograph, in this particular place. As strange as it seemed to me, some part of me hopes that my grandfather was happy we were all there, paying our respects, remembering him.

Four generations.