From the beginning of time, Denver’s Greek community buried their family members  in Fairmount Cemetery. This made it extremely easy for the Priests. On Church holidays they could go and bless everybody in mass. So it only made sense that when we moved to the Denver metro area that my dad wanted to make sure that we would spend eternity with the rest of Denver’s Greek population. Not only that but there was a Greek man working at the cemetery ( How lucky can you get?). My dad went to discuss with him the details of our final resting place.

We never found out what exactly happened but my dad became very angry with this man and determined that his family would not be spending eternity at Fairmount ( What are the odds of two Greek men having an argument?).  My dad decided that we would all be buried in a cemetery far away from the rest of the Greeks ( I still don’t see the downside in this). My dad decided to go to Hampden Gardens, lovely place, lots of room for expansion and no Greeks on the staff. We were set for life.

My mom didn’t like the idea of being buried in the ground, so he purchased a tomb on a side of the wall in one of the buildings. He also purchased my grave but never solidified an exact location. Because of this every few years I get a call ” Mr. Kelaidis your grave has been moved to a new location”.  This last time I told them to just put wheels on the coffin and they could move me around where ever they wanted. Colorado has such beautiful mountains, the only request I made was as they moved me around, to try and have me facing the mountains each time.

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