Cemetery Scenes

[Guest]

Memorial Day. Time to remember living veterans and fallen heroes. My father (Vietnam vet) and his Lion's Club buddies put hundreds of flags out today and every type of holiday.

I think we become accustomed to such displays and perhaps they lose their significance.

I wanted to share what I noticed today when we visited the grave of my husband's mother. She passed away almost three years ago from Alzheimer's (two days after the horror of 9/11/01). We still grieve the loss of such an intelligent and wonderful person.

It was a beautiful day today; amazingly blue sky, those fat white clouds that seem to just hang in the air? We've had so much evil weather lately (including violent tornados) so this was a welcome change.

Her grave was neat, lawn well-sculpted. There was a special place for flowers (and she always loved roses) but my dad-in-law prefers to leave them on her grave rather than in a vase above. I like that; seems more - personal?

We stood for a bit, and my husband and his dad shared memories. I walked away to give them some privacy, and that is when I noticed two very different and emotional scenes.

The first was a man about thirty years old. He was alone, sitting cross-legged next to a marker. There were relatively fresh flowers there - perhaps from yesterday or the day before. He had no expression on his face. I could feel his absolute loneliness from where I stood - it was wrenching.

Another scene was different yet no less emotional. A family (I imagined they were grandmother, mother, and son) were sitting on a blanket next to a grave marker. The mother had a book in her hands and was reading aloud. They were smiling. (I was crying - lol)

Significance? I have no answers; lately I've stopped searching for signs of God in everything.

But I feel compassion for all those who have experienced a loss.

Thinking of you on Memorial Day -

 

[cloudy]

Beautiful post, sssarahh.

 

[Guest]

 

[oggbashan]

Cremation and other sorts of memorial.

Most of my family have been cremated. I can go to where their ashes were scattered and think of them. I don't need to go there to remember them and while I and others remember they still exist. In a few generations few people will know or care that they were alive because their acts and omissions were not such that they significantly altered history. Nor will mine be.

My wife's parents wanted to give their bodies for medical research. For various reasons that couldn't happen but they had a fall back. Both have been given a 'green' burial in cardboard coffins. A tree has been planted over them. In a score or so years the area will be a woodland planted with native trees. Only a plaque by the gate to the woodland will record who is buried in the wood. It will be a place to enjoy. They are buried close to their village and will have given part of something precious to the village as will everyone who is buried there.

Recently my wife and I walked round a graveyard while waiting for an appointment. No one we knew is buried there. We met a man who proudly told us he was 90. He visits his wife's grave every week and eats his lunch sitting in a folding chair beside her grave. He tells her what he has been doing for the last week and says he knows whether she would approve or disapprove. He is there on the same day at the same time every week whatever the weather. If it is raining he brings a large umbrella. His wife died six years ago. When he has finished his lunch he walks round the cemetery to say 'Hi' to all his friends and relations. He said that apart from keeping him mobile and active it helps keep his brain in gear. He tells all of them such news as he has about their children, grandchildren and others. To get that news he has to be in frequent contact with all those people. Guess who has more friends than anyone in the town? (No. He didn't tell us that. The churchwarden told us after the old man had walked away to tell his friends this week's news.) He is well known to the whole town. It helps that he still drives the car he and his wife were given new for a wedding present 54 years ago. One last thing he said as he walked away. "My wife was worried that I would be totally alone when she'd died. I told her not to worry. She had always been my best friend but we both had many friends. I told her I'd never be without friends and I'm not. It won't be long until I join her but my friends make the waiting bearable."

We are now added to the long list of people he waves to as he goes through the town.

Og

 

[Guest]

Og -

That's a wonderful story - what a delightful gentleman.

The pessimist in me is thinking "Oh, what a shame. They almost made it to fifty years of marriage!"

But I suppose the optimist in me is thinking that the years weren't wasted, and though he misses her now, he's taking this in stride, knowing he'll see her again.

Hmph.

(When dealing with grief, it's a damn sight easier to go with the pessimist!)

 

[ABSTRUSE]

These were such beautiful stories, thanks for sharing them.
~A~

 

[dee1124]

Yes, truly. Thanks, all.

 

[Guest]

 

[Guest]

 

[ABSTRUSE]

i bury my mother's ashes in 11 days.
The church no longer allows "containers" to be interred, just the cremains.
My father is buried there as is a sister-in-law. I made "conatiners for each....biodegradeable....out of walnut and cast plaster hands (a brother's hands for my father and another brother..the husband for the sister in law). My father's was evokative of a ship (he had dreamed of sailing around the world..and a bird feeder....his ashes could "escape" below the box into the hands/hull of the ship. My sister in law's wa ssimpler in concept...just my brother's hands holding her.

for my mother i am currently making a "pouring" vessel....with my youngest daughters hands as the "spout" counter balanced by my eldest daughter's hands which will be "playing" the two vertical keyboards on the sides.

it is exhausting to do. emotionally.

I "saw" my mother yesterday in the guise of anotehr person's mother when we were out eat... the same hunched up form...the tendons of her hand, the fineness of her hair....not grey..not brown....spots on her skin. THAT too was hard. She will die soon too.

rhino

My condolences Rhino.
Have you pictures of these containers? I've never heard of such a thing and I'm intrigued.

 

[Guest]

 

[ABSTRUSE]

I do...SOMEHWERE (not here at work)..I know i have some of my father's...i was just looking at the "outtakes" to build the new one. I'll find them. (the better shots in an album i think)

I suppose it is not COMMON....my father's death (years ago now...1982) was my First close experience. Made sense to build something.

It's a beautiful and personal tribute. You're a wonderful son and brother in law and human being.

 

[Guest]

I suppose it is not COMMON....my father's death (years ago now...1982) was my First close experience. Made sense to build something.

When Dad died

What a wonderful tribute, to recognize them using your talents. To make things more personal, more loving, for you and for the rest of your family.

 

[Guest]

 

[Guest]

 

[Guest]