…moving into the darker side of the lunar circle.
Either I post nothing, or I post about the things that’s currently irking me.
Today, it’s graveyards. And no. I’ll not not post anything – that’s completely unthinkable!
Now me, I’m not a great believer in going to visit the grave of a loved one. I prefer to remember them through the things I have that belonged to them. The tools I have of my father. The old kitchen table that used to stand in my grand mom’s kitchen around which we spent many happy afternoons. My Grand father’s purple shirt, and his old PJ’s 😉
Personally, I will be cremated in a cardboard box, and my ashes either stored in one of those remembrance walls, or just chucked somewhere. It’s not as if anybody will even remember me in 50 years time.
But visiting old graveyards – it’s a walk back in history. On my grandparents’ farm, they had a family graveyard. Soldiers that died in the war were also buried there, people that died during the great flu epidemic. Most of them don’t have names, but each has a headstone that marks their passing.
The reason I’m writing about graveyards today, well, no real reason. I’ve just been thinking about everything in my country that’s rapidly going downhill with both National and local government, not much better than thieves and murdering criminals.
Every graveyard I’ve been unlucky enough to have to go to in the past few years looked like a dusty field, filled with holes. The graves were not filled up. No maintenance done on the actual property itself, meaning, no manicured lawns and great old shade trees where you can sit and think about your loved ones. Just dusty expanses of thrown away people. No care taken – I mean, they’re dead not so? Why worry about them, they don’t know anything.
It was not always like this. In times gone by, graveyards were well kept, and looked after. The municipality did maintenance as a matter of course.
Now, as with so many other things, maintenance has fallen by the wayside. Does not seem to be a concept readily available on the African continent. And I have to wonder why.
Since funerals and headstones in the African culture is huge. It’s a whole day thing, with lots of food and singing and processions and customs. Everybody in, what looks like, a five mile radius comes to the funeral. Men to the one side, women to the other side. With tables and cool drinks and lots of singing and dancing.
Why then, if it’s so important to them to send somebody off in this manner, do they not care for the places they bury these people in? Does it not make sense that if a funeral is so important to you, that the actual place of funeral should be too?
Graveyards are, as a matter of course, not happy places. They are places of sorrow. The end of the line for both the living and the dead. I just think it might be slightly easier to bear if you can see that your loved one will be interred in a place that does not look like a desolate wasteland. Even if it is just to make it easier on those that are left behind.