Extra Credit COTD 1- Cemetary

Although I don't have a photo, I would like to share my experience in my yearly visit to my grandmothers grave that is located in Pennslyvania.

My fathers mother died from cancer in the middle of my final year of junior high. It was actually my first case of dealing with death from a relative that was so close to me. Although I haven't seen my grandmother in a few years, I still had clear, fond memories of her. After going through the whole process of attending her wake and funeral, it became a tradition for me to take a drive with my father to Pennslyvania to pay respects to her.

First off, the drive is very long, stretching between 2 and a half to 3 hours. The drive alone shows the dominant social practice of the living paying respects to the dead. Throughout many years, in many different social circles, there are many traditional rituals that are still in existence today that pay tribute to those who have died. For example, indian buriel ritual span to 13 days with much ritual involved. Although not as much as a 13 day celebration, to take a 3 hour drive to stand at a headstone for about 10 minutes to me is saying a lot.

Once we arrive in Pennslyvania, we usually pick up flowers and little ornaments to decorate my grandmothers grave and make it more nice looking. This to me represents showing how deafth doesn't always have to be scary and ugly, but it actually can be a beautiful thing.

Then we finally arrive at the cemetary, which I note contains graves that span throughout the early 1800s. To me, its almost as if that cemetary is like a freeze not just in time, but multiple time slots. Its pretty bizarre to be walking across the yard and seeing graves from the 1800s, 1900s, and eventually our current century of the 2000s. What's even more shcoking is that graves from the early 1800s belong to very young children that died from illness that might have been rare then but not now. Its really sad to see that.

And finally, after the long journey, we arrive at the gravestone of my grandmother. Her marble headstone is engraved with pretty white angels. There are dead flowers from someones last visit, most likely one of my uncles. My dad decorates with the new flowers to make it more nice looking. Words of respect are then said, followed by a moment of silence. Then we leave and wave our final goodbyes, until next time.

Its pretty weird thinking about this, but when somone dies, their life is over for them, but their life is not over for the loved ones still alive. Although people eventually grieve completly for a loved one lost, as long as they're remembered, they will always live on in some type of passion.