Evergreens Cemetery, Bushwick, Brooklyn/Hartbreakers Chicken Sandwich💔

What did you think? That I could be a mile and a half away from a rural cemetery all day and not head directly through its gates when finally free from my school visit in East New York?  Established in the 1849, Evergreens Cemetery is a rural cemetery on the border of Queens (Ridgewood) and Brooklyn (Bushwick)… and it’s on the National Register of Historic Places.  Its 225 acres are set upon rolling slopes that reveal Manhattan views.  I’ve long spied its headstones whenever I get the chance to be on the Jackie Robinson Parkway.  But with a very limited amount of time, this was just a taste.  The ladies were approachable, smaller and with dramatically different expressions to read.  

These angels, their grief and despair, are beginning to seem like a paradox. Though they are statements of mourning, this primary communication is futile for the recipient is departed. This relates to one of life’s most tragic conditions. That our deepest and most potent feelings can sustain, thrive even, without a tactile form, that one can be totally consumed within a world that has no physical manifestation. That we can—and do—live in secret, despite developing intimacy with others.  This is a harsh reality.  This metaphysical limitation underlies so many conflicts.  Our existence, I will argue, is centered around the development of our emotionality and its interplay with other… things. But our emotions are an empty playground.  I think this would be a better conversation in person.  I’m not describing it well.  It sounds like a complaint, but I’m more in awe of our persistence within this condition. 

My favorite angel of Evergreens Cemetery. I might have an angel “type.”

I am very much creeped out by this one.  Not my type…

Ay me, sad hours seem long…

Manhattan over there

Wait, no. This is my favorite. There is so much more I didn’t get to see at this cemetery, like another angel grasping a huge cross and the Triangle Shirtwaist monument. Oh, and a mausoleum that a husband moved into after her death.  He refused to face that she was gone.  Selective denial is so romantic.

What do you think (Part 2)? That I can be 2 miles away from the best vegan fried chicken sandwich I’ve ever had and not get stop by for some dinner?   A sandwich at Hartbreakers in Bushwick was just the thing I needed. .  It was 10 times more fantastic than last time since I was actually hungry this time.

A wonderful day of learning, cemetery wandering and vegan deliciousness.  But I am so pooped.  So you go ahead and practice your times tables while I get some couch time.  Goodnight!