I’ve always had a
fascination with cemeteries…perhaps because both my grandparents lived so close
to ones…I never found them scary, I found them to be places of peace…my one set
of grandparents had a medium sized cemetery that backed up to their
property…when we would visit, my sister and I would walk and look at the
headstones…I always wondered how they died, what kind of life did they
live…some people had lived to be quite old…others were the graves of children
or babies…one can only imagine the heartbreak…some were well maintained, others
were practically covered in grass and weeds…maybe forgotten about…lost to the
history pages of time with no one around to remember them…my other grandparents
lived across the street from a huge cemetery…the biggest in that part of the
state…it wasn’t accessible from their house, but I would sit on the front porch
glider and look at the headstones which stretched out endlessly so it seemed,
seeing tents and black hearses, and flowers…all signaling that someone else was
being buried…such an odd custom…as though it’s one last desperate effort to
stay here on earth, having someone chisel a name on a stone…the custom some
have of ‘visiting’ the grave…as though that keeps one closer to those who have
departed for the spirit world…cemeteries were and are such places of peace…of
course, paranormal activity is often reported in cemeteries, images, orbs,
flashes of light...
