Bring the Gaudy

I went to the cemetery with my oldest son on Saturday. A Mother's Day remembrance for my well loved people. The cemetery where my parents are buried is upsetting because of the personalization of the graves. Their final resting place is like a gypsy caravan and the graves have become gaudy and offensive. Why? There are errant statues of ceramic dogs in different supplicating positions, eternal flames in different colors, tattered veteran's flags, laminated pictures of loved ones propped up against the stones, faded silk flowers, and crooked homemade garden fences around foot markers. All of these tributes that are outside of the "Official Cemetery Guidelines". In short it is gaudy and cheesy. A direct contradiction to my beliefs and sensibility on such sacred ground. A country cemetery like the one where my parents are laid to rest is light years removed from my grandparents' cemetery in Queens, New York. In St. John's Cemetery, perpetual care means thousands of rows of graves receive an identical, church approved green blanket of pines in the winter to celebrate Christmas. Any non-conforming items are immediately removed from sight and put in the dumpster. It is orderly and genteel - but it is not a living, grieving place. Just this weekend, I began to see this untidy expression of genuine grief of loved ones as a good thing, although quite disorderly. Why should cemeteries be relegated to compliant headstones? Row upon row of eternal silence. When cemeteries cease to be alive and filled with grief they are resigned to history. They retreat to being neat and orderly consignors of lives already lived. No one cares anymore. In contrast, this untidy country cemetery reflects a sentiment that is filled with fresh, raw grief. Someday when my boys are all grown men this cemetery will be silent and somber just like those I grew up with. Children moved away or estranged from their families, sibiling and cousins deceased, wives and mothers resigned to nursing homes. The immediate sting of death, loss and grief much removed. And those graves will soon be unbearably tidy and quiet. Of that I am sure.