Greetings from a living tribute,
Last night we spent a little time walking through the cemetery not far from our home. We paid our respects to my son and my father, and strolled through the quiet space, soaking in the peace and the rich beauty. The gentle green hills were specked with marble, and bits of color made by the mementos people leave at gravesites. This weekend there was an extra dose of red, white and blue, as people honored the memory of those who died in the armed service.
It is not my favorite past time, wandering through a cemetery. They can be sad, especially when you see markers with only a few years span between the dates. And there are memories that are pulled out of me that still cause my eyes to sting and water. But there is a certain comfort in being there too. Last night Katherine said: “I don’t know why people are so afraid of cemeteries. I love it here, I would love to have a back yard like this.”
We want to remember the people we care about after they die, but we want to honor them and so we keep them separate, apart from our every day life. It also helps us separate us from our grief. But how ‘apart’ we are is a balancing act.
This thought takes me back to Australia, to one of the best afternoons I can remember. While we were in Australia, we took a walking tour of the coastline south of Sydney harbor. The walkway wound around sandy bays and over rocky cliffs, and looking north or south along the coast was breathtaking.
The weather was perfect for a hike; sunny and warm, with just enough clouds to keep us from overheating. Along one bluff, overlooking the unblemished horizon of the Pacific, was a cemetery. The walkway wound through the cemetery, crowded with headstones, stone crosses, plaques and marble markers. Some families were buried together in group plots, and next to them might be a giant block of stone commemorating the life of one man.
The stones faced in all directions but the impression I got as we approached the cemetery was that the graves faced out to sea. My friend Scott and I stood in the light breeze, surrounded by these stones and the magnificent view.
We decided that someone must have thought a lot of these folks to set aside such a beautiful place for them to spend eternity. Of course we both knew that the place was chosen not for the people buried there but for those who came later to visit, to remember and to grieve.
It is so that those people would look up and see that, while their loved one was gone, there was still beauty in the world. Looking out at the ocean, or down the serpentine coastline, you would know that when you were rested, there was a great world of things waiting for you to experience.
One thing that struck me about this cemetery was that it was part of the landscape, part of the waterfront environment. The path same that navigated past sunbathers took you through grave markers. So often graveyards are removed, separate, usually walled off with iron gates and brick walls to keep out the passers by.
I understand this thinking; you don’t want people playing Frisbee on top of the graves of people who are important to you. And still, I wonder what would be different if the gravestones were right in the middle of our lives. We set aside these special places, some with dramatic vistas, some more restful and quiet.
These become special because the people we care about were here last. We can visit them when we feel the need, or on special occasions. The risk is that too often life overwhelms us, and covers up the part of us that needs to touch the people we have lost.
And, I think we want others to know and remember the people we love who aren’t with us anymore. The answer is as near as your mirror. Each of us can represent the best of what has been given to us by those who have died. We can be living testimony to their lives, to what was important to them. We can be more than just markers with dates, we can be an extension of the lives that have ended.
Today will be marked by parades and processions, speeches and rituals, all aimed at acknowledging those men and women who have died in defense of their country. We will fly flags, mark their gravestones, and plant flowers all in honor of their sacrifice. All in honor of their memory.
Whoever you are remembering today, and after today, made some impression on you, left you with some legacy, large or small. We can be the markers for them, in our every day lives. Not set aside to be visited once a year, but on the path with all of the rest of what happens in life. Here we are, monuments to those who came before us.
Hope this finds you remembering,
David
PS I cast back into 2003 and reeled in a poem I had written on Memorial Day. Here is the last stanza:
Rows of white headstones, a quilt of remembrance,
Mark the places for us to pray,
For the people who made the ultimate sacrifice,
Whose names we honor on Memorial Day.