Deale, MD (Day 1)

House Call (n), visiting the final resting places of the dearly departed.

Today I woke up early to do something that I would describe not as fun but as important and a good experience. My father and I traveled with my Grandparents to three different cemeteries around Baltimore to visit graves. This is something I had not done before. There is no other city that I have been to where my family has managed to grow roots deep enough to have tombstones. The first cemetery was in West Baltimore. Theres a funny thing about old cemeteries. They are all built just outside of town and over time, town creeps out to them. Every place we visited was, at their foundation, so far removed from town that it was hard to imagine a Baltimore that would surround it. Of course, there were houses around all of them. Time passes mercilessly. The cemetery was clean, quiet and peaceful. Almost the picture-perfect image of whaat a cemetery should look like. We said kaddish for my great-grandparents and continued on. This was my first time meeting Morris, my namesake.

My Father, my Grandmother, and her parents.

Our next stop brought us further East. The resting spot of my great-grandmother. Kaddish, stories from the living, we continue. As we moved from place to place, my grandmother told me tales and footnotes on the neighborhoods of Baltimore we were passing through. She gave me context for the communities that we were passing through and gave life to the old streets. Never spend more than a day in a city without a local guide. There is history in every cobblestone and corner. 

My Father, his parents, and his father's mother

Heading further east still, we went to the final site. Here the surrounding neighborhood had encroached on the graves more than anywhere else. The cemetery was established around a hundred years ago. The car wash next door is a testament to the fact that a great deal of things can change in that span of time. Today was a profound experience in showing me my roots. There is something humbling in seeing a row of gravestones with your last name on them. Doubly shocking was seeing tombstones with an older, pre-anglicized form of that name on it.

After the house calls, we grabbed lunch in Baltimore with my cousin Rebecca at the world's gaudiest diner and headed back to Deale. I managed to catch my cousins crabbing on the dock behind the hotel. A small bucket of crabs reflected the difficulty of their hours work. Apparently, the recent fluctuations in temperature has been encouraging their tasty rewards to remain buried in the mud. I was sitting at the dock when I noticed one of our bait lines growing taught. I began to pull it in, my cousin Janie at the ready with a net. The snapping turtle at the end of the line was a huge shock for all in attendance. That sucker was huge.

Dinner?

After a well-earned nap we traveled to my soon-to-be-celebrated-having-wed cousin's farm for the rehearsal dinner. Tori and Caleb have already become legally married during the pandemic. As things are in a thaw, now is the time for a ceremony. This was my first time seeing my new family and my cousin's farm. They have obtained a beautiful plot of land with a lovely home and a lake. The new addition of people to the family is big and cheerful, just the way we like it. My cousin-in-law's brother, brother played the fiddle to bring the true country atmosphere. There is something incredibly relaxing about a wedding where all parties can appear in shorts. The highlight was watching my Grandfather observe the festivities. There have been multiple times in his life where he was told that he would not live to see days like these. He is happy to see them.

After a late night bombing of the lobby bar right when they tried to close it is time for bed. Tomorrow is a big day. Breakfast in Annapolis with my parents, a barber shave with my dad, and of course, the wedding. Tired and excited.