Cemetery Walks

I don't know why I'm so fascinated with cemeteries. I think I've always been, and maybe it ties in with my love of history. I'm especially fond of the cemeteries in the small town where I live now, and one of my favorite 'walkabouts' is through one called Hillcrest. Even though I haven't lived here for a very long time, I feel like I know many of the 'residents' in this place of rest. Recently, a dear friend of mine who died earlier this year was interred there, but beyond her presence, most of my friends at Hillcrest have some distant connection to my house. (Actually, the Jameson family has a cemetery of its own, but that street is much too busy for a peaceful, reflective walk.) I probably do as much of my reflecting and meditating during my walks as I do when sitting still; in fact, I believe some of my deepest insights come to me during these solitary jaunts about town.

Ironically, cemeteries have never made me sad. I don't feel grief there, even for my friend. My friend is with me more now than she ever was when she was alive. I feel her spirit all around me, any time she comes to my mind, just like I feel all the spirits who came before in this house, even though I never knew them personally. They've become my family, which is wonderful since the rest of my 'living' family is so far away now. (Except for my cats, of course!) Over the past couple of years, those spirits taught me a lot about family, and love, and mourning, after I 'inherited' some old letters and photos that belonged to the family. But this is another story...today I wanted to talk about why I like to walk in cemeteries.

I think it's because I see them as a place where everything has stopped, and yet somehow it all goes on. The birds sing, flowers grow, trees watch over, caretakers take care, and I walk. Everything has come to 'rest' and someday I will have that rest as well. The physical part of me will rest, but the divine part of me will live with everything that's still living, maybe even some other woman who, like me, comes to take her walks there.

In my grief, I've often longed for that rest to come sooner rather than later... But then, there are days when I recognize it isn't yet my time to stop. I have to keep going, but I also have to go with Grace, which to me means letting something greater than myself steer the course. I have planned, and plotted, and struggled to build a future I wanted for pretty much all my life. And even though I still have some wonderful aspects of the life I've worked so hard for -- my cats, my beautiful home, singing, writing, friends, family -- a big part of the love that once made my life feel complete is now gone. Nothing I did could stop that from happening, and now I realize that I actually have no real control over anything that happens. What is meant to be, will be. Que sera, sera. I must now slip into the flow, and let life carry me. I have to believe and trust this process, knowing the Universe wants only what is in my best interest, if I will just let all that good come. In the end, when the time is right, I will stop, and rest...and just like going with the flow will bring untold and magnificent blessings, so, too, will the end.