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All the drama of Proust (write it!)

Reader I married him 

https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1inOx0e_sm9kRmUBEtfc2DkuY7b8WXydYhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1VsVCtsIK2luaZEHYWdI1kTb1wDllsUXWhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1sYi6u6liS2Upv7ZKmojtATFx2UXTWx0y

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Today I went to Mt. Zion Cemetery. I noticed on the map it was tucked back behind the cemetery I usually go to, Calvary. And I wanted to go to a Jewish Queens cemetery anyway because I told my friend Jacques Delaguerre that I would look for his grandfather's gravestone, which is apparently somewhere in Queens. An impossible task, but one which I was happy to begin. First of all, it was not easy to get into this cemetery. It is closed off from Calvary and you have to take a side street and enter in between the Sanitation dept. and a police station. The cemetery itself is overrun with weeds and flowers. The gravestones are very close together, almost haphazardly laid out. And mostly of a darker hue than the gravestones at Calvary. It is very different from neatly kept and organized Calvary cemetery. I couldn't help think about the chequered history of the Jews while I was here, especially those still alive during WWII. Cats were running around. And in one section I saw an aband
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