This little cemetery is about a 2 minute walk from my new place, closer than the nearest neighbors. The descendents of the souls who rest here mow and decorate the graves every summer. I find it astounding that these people, some of whom died more than a hundred years ago, are still honored yearly with bush hogging and placement of colorful fake flowers. I have heard people wiser than myself say that a most important part of finding spiritual wholeness in life is to honor ones ancestors. I should pay attention and follow the example of my new neighbors who practice the tradition of Decoration Day. I ought to find a way to celebrate my family legacy- those random, unknown predecessors of me. I should make them known to myself.
I like the way the late summer evening light angling into the cemetery has a presence of its own, like the collective spirits of the deceased, remembering themselves in this place.
1 comment:
What a loss that I didn't read this sooner. I have loved cemeteries since I was very young, it's more than a campy Halloween-thing to The Halloweenstress. That is a wonderful way of putting it; finding spiritual wholeness through ancestor honoring, knowing, remembering, reading the names out loud for today to hear, wondering about the life each tombstone represents, calculating ages at death, linking families by name, deciphering the symbolism of decorative motifs. I'll stop there and say, old cemeteries are one of my most favoritest of things.
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