Grave Matters

This photograph remains in the Museum of Contemporary Art in Massachusetts. I picked this piece because when when I looked at it the first thing that came to mind was my Grandfather. My mother's father's name was Henry. He died of bone cancer when I was only in Kindegarten. What I find interesting about this piece is that on the grave there is only a name. There isn't any other information about this person. I found this interesting because when I think about it, there is not much that I really know about my own grandfather. I don't even know what day his birthday is. So I tried to remember things about him. The most clear memory that I still have of my grandfather was at my grandparents apartment in the Bronx. Every Sunday we would have dinner in their apartment. I don't even remember how old I was, but this is a memory of mine that I will never forget. After dinner my grandpa would call me over to him. He was sitting in his rocking chair relaxing. He would call me over to sit on his lap. Then he would tell me a story like the 3 little pigs or some other kids story. Then I realized that I do have memories of my grandpa, and he's more than just a name to me.