Grief
It seems that ‘tis the season to think of loved ones, present and gone. I suppose this time of year tends to lead me to think of all the people I miss, of the people I won’t be able to meet any longer in this life.
I have learnt that grief doesn’t really go away, that sometimes you don’t want it to go away. Grief is the anchor you hold on to remember those who are no longer here. Grief however, evolves- at first, it may be the heavy load that lies on your heart, bringing with iit pain, tears, denial. Over time, that load lessens, until what remains is a light breeze that brings with it memories both painful yet sweet.
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There is a gossamer-like thread that is held tenuously between my memories of the people that I have lost and where they are buried. I feel that the fact that their graves lie 10 minutes away from my home lessens the ache I feel when I think about them.
Perhaps it’s just me. Perhaps other people, like the people whose apartments lie 500 metres away from the graveyard would find it grotesque, our culture being imbued as it is with a fear of death and all that is connected with it.
Perhaps it was because the graves of my two grandmothers, an uncle, an aunt, a cousin and a great-aunt lie in that cemetery, that I was saddened when these residents, who had, after all been living near the cemetery opposed its expansion. Perhaps they opposed it because what I thought of as a place where people could pray for and remember their dead was to them a place reminiscent of ghouls and goblins, and therefore offensive to have nearby.
Perhaps they are afraid.
Perhaps I should be more forgiving.
Perhaps they should be less afraid.
nads went at 14:13