There is something a bit mysterious about taking a stroll through a graveyard, reading the epitaphs, and wondering who the people were, what they were really like.
My momma’s family always hold their reunions at the same church in Lexington. Beside the church is a sprawling graveyard filled with monuments, statues, and headstones dating back to nearly the start of the United States. In our younger years, my cousins and I occupied our time during family reunions by wandering the graveyard. As we explored, we wondered about the people buried there, especially the graves of children. Even as kids we felt how wrong it was for them to be there.
Just behind the church is a set of railroad tracks, the train’s lonely, piercing whistles punctuating many scary tales. Yes, we used to tell stories about those buried there, some of them featured our own family members.
Maybe it’s the writer in me but I have always found the words chosen to grace a loved one’s headstone interesting. Some sayings are funny, some sad, and others offer wisdom and a reminder of the shortness of our days.
No matter the age, most words and dates etched into the cold, gray granite of a traditional headstone can weather not only nature’s elements, but also the continued passage of time still spinning around it.
Often a sign of money, because let’s face it granite’s not cheap, many graveyards are adorned with large statues and ornate crosses. It is said that death is the great equalizer, and the rich die every day same as the poor, yet each adds their own unique charm to a graveyard.
From the working man to the wealthy, a graveyard represents a collection of shared pasts, loves, and hates. Each monument, be it small or large, tells its own story. Graveyards are obviously associated with death but to me they have always been a representation of life lived, of ones left behind who want nothing more than their special loved one’s life to be remembered, to show future generations they lived, and that they mattered. No one wants their name forgotten.
I feel to be a proper graveyard, it must have strolling paths, lots of trees, beautiful views to entice visitors, and of course, headstones.
I know there are allegedly all sorts of reasons why a placard in the ground is beneficial, though for the life of me I can only think of one, mowing.
The solution to this problem is a weed eater or weed killer spray.
Another issue I have heard that people have with a traditional headstone is their inability to walk through a graveyard without tripping over the headstone. While this mostly sounds made up to me, I think this is more of an upkeep issue than a reason to ban headstones outright, everywhere.
Now those problems have been solved, I think we should consider returning to the headstone tradition. I say we figure out a way to make headstones, funeral costs altogether, cheaper. Let’s return to etching out something witty, sage, or cryptic for future generations to mull over across our headstones.