Michael Malone - Weebly

limited to two a year. As individuals, ancestral Dingleys
were not exempt from Ramona's irony, but as her family
tree, they were dutifully tended by her with respect. She
was, after all, the last to go by the name. She called
herself the janitor of the past, while confessing there
was no earthly reason why she kept all the scraps of
refuse tossed by time into the bin of history. Among
these self-imposed familial responsibilities was the
maintenance of numerous Dingley graves. As she was
unable to persuade herself that any intimations of
immortality inscribed on the tombs were likely to prove
true, she assumed that whatever was left of her relatives
had been left right there in Old Town Burial Ground,
where now (along the paved back entrance) she rode in
her wheelchair accompanied by Mrs. O'Neal on foot.
In a hamper attached to the back of her chair were
bunches of summer flowers with which they replaced
the dry brown bouquets of last winter.
Everyone was there. Even, against their wills,
Ramona's Catholic grandmother Bridget and visionary
father, Ignatius, both of whom had always disliked
being surrounded by Protestants. Everyone was there