Recently visited this location to pay my respect to the one and only Harold Ramis, Ghostbuster. I grew up watching HR on the big screen. Location was very well maintained and clean. Highly recommended!

While visiting my father's spot yesterday, I had the lovely opportunity to meet one of the grounds staff- Gabe. He took the time to ensure that we knew where we were going to and offered my mother water as it was a hot day. I appreciate the kindness that he shared. Great member of the team!

My beloved aunt was interred at Shalom Memorial Park this afternoon. Hers was a life well lived in service to her family, her clients and her myriad friends near and far. The manifest stress that resulted secondary to her passing was exacerbated by the fact that her daughter, my nominal cousin, is a card carrying member of the lunatic fringe, certifiable and several French fries short of a Happy Meal. Imagine, if you will and care to, flying in from Florida to Chicago during the dead of Winter to bury the most important person in your life, sans winter coat and/or notification of the plethora of friends and relatives who knew and loved this person, and, upon arriving at the burial plot, asking site management to inform the few guests that presented that, because the daughter traveled from a warm enclave and has no winter coat, the eulogy would take place outside the certifiable daughter's rented Toyota Corolla while all guests gathered around the vehicle from which heat and David Bowie emanated, while daughter sat warm, comfortable and completely impervious to all that transpired around her. I'm still trying to figure out how Shalom's management team and the excellent presiding rabbi pulled this off without averting their eyes while explaining this "plan" or, frankly, laughing out loud. That they were able to do so both transparently and professionally is and was unfathomable to the few other relatives in attendance and me, and was, again, appreciated. While my beloved aunt now resides on the other side of eternity, her progeny lives on, which is perfectly acceptable as long as she returns to Florida and never again darkens either my doorstep nor generally jovial disposition any time soon, if ever again.