In a cemetery (Green Mountain to be exact) in south Boulder are four graves. In each of those graves are my great great-grandparents. The Haworth's are my Mom's family, the Kenner's are my Dad's family. The cemetery is at the base of Chautauqua Park that leads to the Flatiron's, the most photographed mountains in America, and the most cherished by rock climbers. What's interesting about the graves is the headstones are back to back, we imagine that means the caskets are head to head. Both sets of grandparents died before my Mom and Dad knew each other, and they were attending another grandparent funeral when they made the discovery.
My friend Gigi lived two blocks from the cemetery for a while, Murphy (my dog when I was married) and I would go visit her, walk through the cemetery that connects to a trail leading to Chautauqua Park and the trails the wind through under and behind the Flatirons. As outdoorsy and active as Boulder people, we could hike for hours and only see a couple of other people. Bears were more often spotted than other humans!
I have a long family history with Boulder. I am a third-generation native, but no longer live there. There are many things that I miss, but I don't see myself going back there to live. Where I live now, there is a long family history as well, and life here seems to make more sense to me.