Where do you want to be buried? (an odd eulogy)

(N.B. My wife Carol died on January 5, 2021. This was my eulogy to her. Yesterday was our fortieth wedding anniversary.)

A few months ago I asked Carol where she wanted to be buried.

"Well, I don't want to be buried with your dad, I can tell you that!"

"Why not?"

"Because! I'd be lonely! No one would come to visit me."

"I'd visit you."

"No you won't, you'll find a girlfriend like Rebecca's dad and forget about me."

“So where do you want to be buried?”

“I want to be buried in New York.”

“Why New York?”

“So my sister Lori can visit me. She’ll visit me in New York.”

For those of you who aren't married, this is what a loving conversation sounds like between two people who have been together for forty years.

As it turns out, there was no other place for Carol to be buried. Her dad Frank served in the military and is buried at Pinelawn in Long island. Four years ago, when her mom Anne died, she was buried with him, taking the only other spot in his plot. So there was no place for Carol in New York.

That was the last time we discussed it, and I made the unilateral decision to bury her with my dad in the beautiful Mt. Auburn cemetery here in Cambridge. My dad loved Carol. He was even the one who proposed that we get married after five years together. She will not be lonely, and I will visit her every day, at least until the grass grows over her grave and my heart begins to heal.

This would not be the last time that I needed to do something on her behalf. When she was in the hospital, she requested a laptop or tablet. I asked her why. She said, “I want to write a letter to my granddaughter Ava.” I thought about this for a bit. “I could set up a blog for you.” “I don’t want you to see it.”

I tried very hard to set up a private blog for her, but found that the best I could do was to set up a sub-blog of my blog. I named it carolmastromauro.wordpress.com, and transferred into it the one line she had had the strength to write:

"Hi Ava! Wish I could be there with you."

I waited for her to add to it, but she was too weak. I mentioned this to her nurse, Maryann. She said to me “You could finish the letter for her, as an act of love.” I liked that idea, so I took it back to Carol, Jonny & David. She began to narrate the letter to us, and we transcribed it. Here is a snippet:

"Ava, I want to tell you about my wonderful adventures as a young woman. I want you to know that I embraced life without fear or anxiety, that I went for the gusto and loved my life. I want to encourage you to do the same, as your parents have already done.

"When I was 19 years old I went out with someone named David P. for a year and a half. David was an adventurous young man, and together we traveled to Africa, and specifically a country called Morocco. The capital of Morocco is Casablanca, where a famous movie was made. David and I went there.

"After spending some time in Casablanca, we hitched a ride on a tramp steamer to Avignon in the south of France. I was the only girl on the boat. David slept downstairs in the crew's quarters. I had my own room in the captain's suite, and the crew was very respectful to me. (I was propositioned by the Egyptian chef, who showed me all of his money.) The trip took three days. On one of those days, the lunch that was served to each of us was an entire giant squid drenched in olive oil. It looked disgusting, and I didn't eat it.

"During the trip we got very drunk drinking Scotch on the rocks (meaning with ice) with the crew, so by the time we got to Avignon we were extremely hungover! As a result, I don't remember too much about Avignon, but I believe we did visit the famous bridge from the song "sur la Pont d'Avignon" (by the bridge of Avignon; Ed just sang the song to me).

"In Avignon, David hobnobbed with the people effortlessly; he was very good with languages, and spoke perfect French without an accent. I, on the other hand, had no idea what the heck was going on! We hitched a ride into Paris, riding into the city in the front seat of a big red firetruck!! We only stayed in Paris for a few days, after which David stayed in France to visit with some friends while I traveled to Manchester, England to study English literature at the University of Manchester."

Carol’s letter to Ava is not finished yet. It may take us a while. But not too long. We want it to be done by the time Ava graduates from high school…

*********************

Several weeks after delivering this odd eulogy, I realized what Carol was really saying while teasing me about finding a new girlfriend. She knew that losing her was going to be so painful to me that I would need to seek comfort from another woman. She was, in a backhanded way, giving me permission to do just that. Our close friend told me that Carol once said to her "When I'm gone, Ed is going to need to find someone new. Please help him."

Carol’s love for me was a true, unselfish, powerful love. I feel it every day in the warmth of the sunlight, in the family of bunny rabbits in our back yard, in our sons, in her sisters, and in my indelible memories.

Thanks, friends, for reading.