How do you feel about graveyards? About visiting them I
mean. The loved one is dead, gone;
whether in heaven or in hell, there is nobody there, a body yes, a soul
no. So why go, why stop by a graveyard.
The person can’t hear you, you can’t talk to them.
I have been pondering this idea of late, the purpose of
going to a grave. I drove by my husband’s Grandma’s grave and I thought about
stopping. And then I thought, is that weird? I hardly can remember her; I met
her years ago, long before we were married.
Then it made me consider my own Grandparent’s graves. How weird it is to think their bodies are in
the ground, their lives on earth are over. The laughter of their young lives,
the wisdom of age, the struggles, the joys, their stories-are done.
It’s strange to realize that will be me one day. My youth,
my vigor, passion, dreams, my everyday…will all pass by in a moment and I too
will be in a graveyard in the ground. There in body, yet absent in Spirit.
The idea to Remember…is all through the Old Testament.
There are continuous reminder’s, such as“…Keep your soul diligently, so
that you do not forget the things
which your eyes have seen and they do
not depart from your heart all the days of your life; but make them known to your sons and
grandsons.” (Deut. 4:9). I think this is the point of graveyards.
Life can get so busy, so full, it keeps moving forward every
day, and we should move forward after a loved one dies, yet I think there is
value in taking the time to stop, to quiet your soul, and to remember.
And a graveyard provides that still place, it’s usually
quite pretty with green grass, trees, and flowers- and it has tranquility about
it. A place where you can go and quiet your mind, publicly shed tears and
simply ponder.
My Grandad was the first person I have ever seen dead. I
remember feeling scared to go into that hospital room. I didn't know what it
would be like or how I would feel at the presence of his body being there
empty. To see someone lifeless. I was scared to walk into that room.
But what I found amazed me. Though my wonderful Grandfather
was gone, there was no fear, because though he had departed from his body, I
knew he was in heaven in that moment. There was peace in that room in the mist
of such loss. The moment I looked at my
dear Grandad the fear vanished and a calming assurance took over.
My Grandfather was strong and courageous. Whenever I read
Joshua 1:9 “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble
or be dismayed for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go,” it makes me
think of him and the heritage he gave to me as his grandchild.
So, I think graveyards can remind us who we loved, how they
lived, and what they lived for. They can cause us to be thankful for the
person’s life and the time shared with them, they can challenge us to live our
life with purpose and make us consider the fact that one day someone else will
be standing on our grave. What will they remember us for?
