I’ve never been one who is scared of cemeteries and have actually always found them quite fascinating.. I know that sounds weird, so let me explain...
I grew up in a very small mountain town (about 200 people) and we have a community cemetery. It was started by one of the local ranchers and the whole community helps keep it up. So from a very young age.. I spent a lot of time there.
Each spring the community would gather to plant tulip and daffodils bulbs, trim trees, fix what needed to be fixed etc. Also throughout the year the school kids would go up and mow, pull weeds and just do simple maintenance. It truly is a community project and has always been.
To me cemeteries aren’t for those that have passed, but a place for the living to show respect for their ancestors while giving a physical remembrance of them.
I prefer to remember those I love in daily memories.. but this specific cemetery actually acts as both for me. Because of the time spent there and the memories I have from those experiences.
My Great Grandmother and Great Grandfather were the first of my family to be layed here (Nana and Pappa). When I was young once a month my Grandmother and I would come to check on things, water flowers, and just clean up a bit. But it was what came after all the work that makes this place so special to me.
Once we were done with our chores, my Grandmother and I would lay out a blanket over looking the valley and enjoy the scones we had made that morning. The recipe was one that my Great Grandmother had taught to her and one she passed on to me. We would sit in the sunshine while she told me stories about Nana and adventures she had growing up. This was our tradition, a way for her to honor her parents while passing on those stories and recipes that are an important part of our history to me.
My Grandmother passed on a few years ago, and she’s here in this special place right next to her folks. She was someone I was extremely close to.. and I haven’t been able to be back here since.. it just held too many memories. I realized though that I was missing the point, and forgetting what she taught me.
So I finally put on my big girl pants and planted bulbs this last week... pulled weeds, and just gave the place some love. I also made those same scones, and after the work was done.. my daughter and I sat over looking the valley and I shared with her some stories of my Grandmother as well as my Nana. It’s my turn to carry on the tradition, and that’s why this place will always be special to me.
We as a community have our own tradition here though. It’s become custom to plant things as a way to remember those that are gone... it makes sense.. add life in a place that represents loss of life. Over the years this life planted has taken over a bit, and that’s exactly how we like it...
To a stranger it might look like this place is not taken care of, it’s overgrown and forgotten.. but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
This place represents our past, but also our future. It’s a place to remember those that are gone, but also the life they left us, the memories, the traditions, and because of that.. it’s more than a cemetery, it’s a place to remember and carry on the traditions of our ancestors.
Much Love,
Justine
All photos taken by me with my Fuji x-t2