Like it or not, my job involves death because I’m a church secretary. It has been a challenge for me to experience the passing of people I’ve grown to love or to comfort the bereaved by helping them plan funerals. If that weren’t difficult enough, I also sell burial niches to the living. There is nothing like selling burial plots to remind you of your own mortality. Not that I’ve purchased one for myself. But many people around my age are proactive about this because they are good to their children. I suppose I should be good to my children, too.
The other day when I sold several burial niches to a parishioner, we got to talking in a roundabout way about historical figures buried at the local South Park Cemetery. It turns out, she informed me, that South Park Cemetery offers historical walking tours. They are self-guided, but they have a map that will take you to the oldest marked graves. This is the land of the Lincoln County War. Who knows whose grave you might find? Friends or relatives of Billy the Kid or Pat Garrett?
I haven’t made this walking tour, but I’m considering it for a Saturday morning, maybe after the busyness of Lent and Holy Week have passed. Every day I tell myself I’m going to experience something new and exciting. Does a tromp through a cemetery count? According to the City of Roswell Community Calendar, this walking tour can be made from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. and takes two hours to complete. Well, who knew? Of course, you might end up alone because from what I know — and, no, I don’t spend much time at the cemetery, but I speak with the funeral homes frequently enough — they close the gates early, especially on Saturdays. No friendly burials around if you stay too late, in other words.
Speaking of doing new and exciting activities, I tried to go to the Los Rieleros concert the other night. I bought a ticket from the only vendor available, Ticketón. About the time my priest was admonishing me for going to a concert on a Friday night during Lent, this company sent me threatening messages that I was suspected of fraud, and they would pull my ticket from my phone if I didn’t send them images of my driver’s license and credit card through…email. I looked it up; this is a legitimate company, and I’m not the only one they’ve falsely accused of fraud with threatening texts. It was bizarre. I argued with them, but they were having none of it. Eventually, I gave up and gave in and decided not to go to the concert during Lent. There’s a longer story to that, but I’m not going to tell it. I thought about filing a complaint with the Better Business Bureau because no company should be operating this way, but I’m honestly too busy and am experiencing a fatalistic attitude towards Los Rieleros. I’ve missed every concert they’ve had in Roswell since I moved here, and I moved here listening to one of their albums on repeat — you know, the kind of CD that gets stuck in the CD player in your car, or used to when CDs were still things you played.
WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE??? I went to the Ramón Ayala concert at the end of January, and it was good. He’s eighty and still pulls out his accordion and plays on stage for enthused crowds. I love him, but I’ve seen him live before. Oh, well. What else is new to do? The more you do, the more you do the same. Or something profound like that.
And so, maybe someday I will make it to Los Rieleros or go for a walking tour in the cemetery.
Jill Domschot 