Finding Family

It might seem a bit strange, but today we spent some time visiting our relatives... at the cemetery. 

Danny and I have been trying to learn more about our families, and have been questioning our parents, my grandmother, and other family members about our past.  My grandma has always been good about "visiting" loved ones that are no longer with us.  In fact, she makes a regular event out of it with her sisters, so we took her cue, packed up the car, and headed out to Calvary Cemetery on the south side of Cleveland.

After stopping in the office for information and directions, we went to look for the grave of my great-grandparents, Emil and Ada Kalal. It took a bit of searching, but we found their headstone nestled between some trees.

Ada, my great grandmother, passed away in 1992, when I was twelve years old.  I only met her a handful of times, as she spent most of her later years in Florida, but her "longevity" genes seem to be strong.  She lived to be 98 years old, and her son, my Uncle Paul, will be celebrating his 90th birthday next weekend.  Hopefully my mom, my sisters, my children, and I are blessed with a long and happy life, too!

We found the Trentanelli family plot in an older section of the cemetery.  Unlike the long, straight rows where my great grandparents are resting, this portion was a bit more haphazard, and a little more worn.  

If it was odd to see my (married) last name on a monument and collection of headstones, it was even more disconcerting to see my son's full name.  Anthony, however, didn't have a problem with it.

The stone to Anthony's right is a marker for a distant cousin.  We aren't exactly sure how that Anthony is related to our family, but it did make my heart stop for a moment when I realized he was only two years old when he passed on.   Our Anthony turns two next month, and I can only begin to imagine the heartache his family  must have felt losing him, and his brother, who was also two when he died.

As much as experiences like this make me appreciate my life, and make me hold my boys a bit tighter, they also make me even more curious about my history, and my husband's history as well.