In my Italian Conversation class today, we were supposed to be prepared to talk about our favorite place in Milan. I was so excited because Thursday morning I had discovered it--the Cimitero Monumentale, which, as you may have figured out, is a cemetery. A huge beautiful cemetery in the middle of the city that is surprisingly quiet. It is packed with tombs and sculptures, monuments and chapels, trees and paths. I was there for an hour but could've stayed.
My teacher called on students who talked about the Duomo, their favorite apertivo place, or cafe. As my turn approached I still had not realized how weird it is to choose a cemetery as your favorite place.
I spoke. My teacher raised an eyebrow. Class continues. And then I remembered all the other cemeteries I've enjoyed. I used to walk to a cemetery near my house when I was in high school. Around that time one of my teachers told his daughters I was Wednesday Adams which sounded less rude than it does right here. So I like cemeteries. They are quiet. Is it weird to think about how you'd like to be remembered? To think about your own mortality and what you will do with your one wild life (I'm paraphrasing Mary Oliver)? No way. It may be just like high school but now I don't care if you think it is weird to like a cemetery. It is a pretty amazing cemetery.
