Memorial bench at St. Luke's Church Garden on Hudson Street




The bench is nearest the Hudson St. south garden, in the sun. Elizabeth liked to sit in the sun, so we chose the sunniest spot there. The plaque reads "In memory of Elizabeth G. Aakre."

How do you get there?
The Church of Saint Luke in the Fields is located at 487 Hudson Street, in Greenwich Village, New York City, at the intersection of Hudson Street and Grove Street. Directions are here at this link.


Garden Hours

NOTE – the closing times may vary due to Church and/or School functions.

Hudson Street North Garden Gate
(Main gate – 487 Hudson Street)
Monday- Saturday 7am-8pm; Sunday 7am-7pm.

Rector’s Garden Gate
Monday–Thursday 10am-5;30pm.

Barrow Street gate to South Garden
Daily 8am-8pm (dusk during the winter).

Hudson Street Gate to South Garden
Monday-Saturday 10am-8pm (dusk during the winter)
Sunday 11am-6:30pm

2 comments:

  1. Hi Patricia--
    My name is Claire, I was in Elizabeths grade at Packer and went to St Luke's for middle school -- so Elizabeth and I always had so much fun talking about our awkward middle school disc dance experiences. I think about her often and really love that you have created a place that allows me to see even more sides to her that I had not known before. I am also very glad to know that there is this bench in her memory, and I will make sure to visit it one sunny afternoon.

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  2. Dear Claire,

    Richard and I sat on the bench yesterday in the heat of the day and thought of how much she liked to get tan. The garden at St. Luke's looks really gorgeous right now. This particular bench is near the parking lot, and we look forward to seeing it in the fall especially.

    Patty

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How Dina Aunty relished her memories. Mummy and Daddy were the same, talking about their yesterdays and smiling in that sad-happy way while selecting each picture, each frame from the past, examining it lovingly before it vanished again in the mist. But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be re-created—not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

> From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry