i have this fixation on cemetaries. specifically epitaphs on graves.
there is something about graveyards and tombstones that make me cry (in pain, missing and sometimes joy) for what i read in every carved letter on the tablet.
this started when i was invited to a celebration of life of one of my ex-patients who was also was the husband of one of my colleagues. he became a dear friend too before he passed away. on that day, we went to the “green” memorial park (green- because they encourage sustainble burial, using recyclable materials for caskets, and using wood for markers, etc) and gathered where his remains were buried while each one of us (there were only five of us that day) recited a poem/passage that we connect to “d” and put wildflowers on his grave.
that day has marked me. up til this day, i still well up whenever i remember what trasnpired that day. i was sooo emotional that you would think i was the widowed (although i didnt wail and howl , it made it all the more emotionally painful because i thought my chest was about to explode).
we toured the green cemetary after our dedications (there was a vast open field in the back and on the side were the woodlands) on that crisp autumn day, and just looked at written messages on people’s tomb. we looked and calculated their ages through dates of birth and their date of death which made it poignant and sad–but most of all there was a story, a glimpse of the life and the people that will be missing them.
“to bunny, who has gone for a sleep” one tomb was written.
“nanny, we will miss you” another connoted abut the grandmother they will miss.
“geoff, there will be days for tears,but we promise but there will be more days of happiness to remember you by” by loved ones left.
“dad, mishy and i will forever miss you”. children and a wife maybe.
and each time i read all these, i cry in silent agony for them—them who have been left behind by these people who have had entertwined lives with them before they parted. them who were left by these souls who touched them immensely and changed their lives.
i try to recall what we have written for my papa’s tombstone message. i cant remember it fully well now but i know, all these are more meaningful to me because i know what it feels like to be the survivor of a loved member of the family. was it “we will see you soon“? maybe it was “you will be forever in our hearts” or was it “ dont let the bed bugs bite” , i dont remember now, but what i do remember is this instantaneous pang of chest pain i feel whenever i remember my father wont be there anymore to greet me at the airport.
i guess, i will continue visiting tombstones and graves. reading commentaries on the recent ones, marvelling at the recentness of their passing, and cursing death for cheating them of life. basking in the freshness of those just recently buried and judging the proximity of time by how the flowers are wilting, wallowing in sadness, and being enveloped in the smell of cement , fresh dug mud, a hole in the ground barely covered. i will still be lighting candles for those unmarked ones, or those which letters have slightly faded because time have forgotten them.
i will be the one to remember for them.
photo: a recent trip to a cemetary
