Today is Sunday, September 28, 2025. Well, today Elliot and I successfully went to West Babylon, Long Island, to plant our feet at the New Montefiore Cemetery and Wellwood Cemetery in order to pay our respects to our two dear friends interred in both. Thus we have fulfilled the mitzvah of visiting a cemetery before the conclusion of the High Holy Days. Not that we ever intended to; it was just that our friend “Gene” desired to do it this weekend and we said we’d drive out there to meet him at one since we couldn’t find the grave of our recently departed friend, “Mark,” who died in 2023 the last time we ventured out there which was over a year ago.

Before we left the borough at about 12:45, I walked over to Austin Street to take a quick look at the fair taking place there. My intention was to find the booth where newly formed Indivisible of Forest Hills was located since our friend, “Patricia,” sent me an email indicating that they would be there today. I waded through the food booths and commercial stalls lining both sides of the street. We woke up rather late, so I didn’t go out until close to 11. I just had time to have coffee and a croissant at La Boulangerie.

By golly, I did find the culprit, the newly formed anti-Dump organization that now has a chapter in Forest Hills. I began conversing with some members there; I had a particularly interesting conversation with “Beatrice,” who was sitting by the main table. At one point, she claimed that Kamala Harris did win the 2024 election, but that she and the party consciously decided not to contest the results because they feared a MAGA war if they had. Of course, there is no proof of this, I know, and I’m just spreading what seems to be a conspiracy theory like the nuts on the right. But I like to believe this is the truth. Otherwise, we have to accept that there are many morons living in this country.

There was a sign-up sheet, so I left my name, email, and cell phone number on it. I can’t predict if they will call me at any time, but I can hope. Also, I was given a flyer about the October 18th demonstration right here in Forest Hills, at McDonald Park. I indicated I was partial to attending the rally in Manhattan; their protest is scheduled at 10 through 12 that day. The one in the city starts at 11 and runs through 1. Now you know why I prefer to take the subway down to Father Duffy Square, at 47th Street and Broadway, a new location for these demonstrations. They’ve usually been held outside the 42nd Street Library at Bryant Park.

We make good time driving out to West Babylon: we arrive around 1:40. We head for the cemetery office where we are supposed to meet up with Gene and see he’s not there. I enter the office and ask where his husband is located and the staff person hands me a map which I can never read. I am geographically compromised. I can’t distinguish west from east, north from south.

We finally get in contact with Gene who informs us he is in the other cemetery – Wellwood Cemetery which is down the block. The cemetery we were in did not have “Keith,” his husband; it only had our friend “Mark” interred here. Already very confusing!

Therefore, we leave this cemetery to find the other one and the facility office, which is quite difficult to find as well. When we ultimately find the office to the second cemetery, we look for our friend who is not there either. What to do? Finally, he does call us and tells us he’s by the grave of his husband where he has been trying to find his husband’s parents for over a half-hour. He took his electric shears with him to prune the top of the shrubbery growing by the gravestone. We exit the office area and drive down various streets and blocks when we finally catch up with Gene’s electric blue Civic.

Whooo! At least we have met up with Gene. Even if we don’t find anybody today, we still have live Gene with us. When we see Gene, he’s sweating and complaining about not being able to find Keith’s parents – until now. We proceed to accompany Gene to two gravestones marking Keith’s parents’ remains and we wait until he cuts the hedges.

We then pile back into two cars and follow Gene to Keith’s burial spot. It’s a long, winding path to where Keith is buried, but we find him and we exit our cars, to say the Kaddish (prayer for the dead) at Keith’s elaborate gravestone. Gene sheds a tear for his departed husband, who died on December 24, 2018. Elliot whispers into the air, “I miss you, Keith!” We put stones on top of Keith’s headstone and then leave.

We then follow Gene back into the first cemetery where Mark is buried and look for his place of rest. This we find somewhat easier, but I know if I were here alone with Elliot, it would have turned into a nightmare of circuitous turns and wasted gas.

Voila! We find Mark’s tablet, not a tombstone, so we conjecture that’s why we might have missed him the first time we came out to pay our respects. We recite Kaddish again and say how much we miss him too.

With our task done, we pile back into both cars and head for West Babylon to a restaurant called Brixton, located on Deer Park Avenue. This time I drive since Elliot intends to call his daughter back at 3.

I plug the restaurant’s address into Waze and start exiting the cemetery. I maintain a measured distance so as to not lose Gene who is a good distance in back of me. In less than 20 minutes, we head for this neighborhood eatery and start looking for parking spots. Gene parks a little ahead of us.

We get out of our cars and look for Brixton, which I find with my eagle eyes across the street. We cross the street and go in the side entrance and ask to sit down. We’re told the place is closed and won’t open until 4. We’re too hungry to wait, so we say, thank you, and walk out.

We cross the road and find a novel place, Babylon Social, that looks quite busy. It’s located directly opposite Brixton and it seems to specialize in comfort food, which is what we were definitely in the mood for at that moment. To me, it looked more like a sports bar with several television sets blaring a football game and people screaming their appreciation of their favorite team winning a touchdown or whatever they’re supposed to do. A middle-aged man and what looked like his son, maybe, were sitting at the table adjacent to us.

A young waitress by the name of Clarissa waited on us. Since we were all ravenous, we decided to order some appetizers first like cauliflower bites and a chopped wedge salad for Elliot and Gene. Gene and I ordered an eggplant parmigiana pizza to share with the table. For my beverage of choice, I ordered a coffee.

For dessert, Elliot treated us all to ice cream delights at Kilwins Ice Cream up the block. I almost wanted to bring home some chocolate, but the prices were indeed not too sweet.

We did find a bakery along the way where I asked for four apple cider donuts. Don’t ask what I was charged for these sweet treats.

We said our goodbyes to Gene on Deer Park Avenue. He is going back to Provincetown before Yom Kippur and then he flies back to Florida on November 4. We said we might come out to the Sunshine State sometime in March to be with him.

And so it went!