Cemeteries

As you may or may not know, my new house literally backs onto one of the largest cemeteries in Calgary. This final resting place goes by the name of Queens Park cemetery. The first Saturday that I lived here I went for a walk to get some air and to explore the surrounding area. I was also feeling mildly down since I had just moved and had to say goodbye to dear friends and also my place of residence and my life downtown. So I departed from my condo, I may or may not use the term Condo mildly liberally due to the fact that I do live in Condoesque type arrangements but in reality I still pay rent. So I departed from my condo with a large woolen sweater around my torso. It was kinda cold, which is in my opinion the best weather for walking, and I proceeded to walk through the headstones. It was an experience I will not soon forget. I had never in the past really spent that much time amongst graves, I had no reason nor rhyme to. So I walked and explored the vast monument to death which each and every cemetery is. Though it is a monument to death I find that it is also a monument to life, to the life that has been lived, however short. Though the entire cemetery is in memory to those passed on, and I found that looking at the headstones was quite sobering to think of what those who had been left endured, I have seen some where the spouse spends 40 years after the death of the other spouse. The most sobering and touching part of the cemetery on this crisp Saturday morning was the small children's area. I was drawn to the bright playground that was up the hill a little ways and went to see what the playground was for. I never figured out what the playground was for but I was captured by the headstones that were around the playground. There were headstones with one date on them. These headstones were kept up, the parents had put flowers by them, had made sure that it was tidy and had clearly spent time there mourning. It broke my heart to see that the life of these children was so brief and yet they were so clearly loved. My soul mourned for those who had passed and I also thought about how the parents who come to visit must feel. I have no claim to know nor have experienced what they went through, but their love was so evident that I think I caught a glimpse of what they were going through. From this deeply moving place I then allowed my interest to direct me to where I wanted to go next, I saw some large artillery guns up the hill a bit, and really enjoying history and all things historical I found myself wandering around the war memorial soaking up the history and wondering how many people actually knew about this memorial. It seems like the war memorial is hidden behind some trees, which gives it a little privacy, but I wondered if people did actually come and visit. Then I noticed the graffiti on the barrel on one of the large guns. I felt angry and wanted to confront those who had done such a thing to clearly a memorial. Teens these days have no concept of what their grandparents did for them. The teens also have no concept of what is a lasting memory to something far greater then video games and iPods. After being annoyed by the teens I left and headed back home.

It was a good hike in general and from that day forward I decided that I needed to make it a part of my regular life. People my question my sanity, but in turn I would question theirs. What better place to contemplate life and to enjoy the quiet and beauty then in a place where everyone is resting. Granted they are resting in peace, and I am only resting my soul and my mind be allowing the walk through to calm myself. I will confess that I am mildly afraid of the headstones at night, and one time Chris Throness and I did walk through the cemetery at night, and it was eerie at first, but since it was so quiet we were able to have a deep and challenging conversation and no longer were the headstones scary. I have even started to get off my bus a few stops earlier to be able to enjoy the walk home through the cemetery. This affords me time to think about my day, to contemplate what I will do during the eve and what I think about death. I have been thinking a lot about death the last few days. Well not thinking about death, but rather thinking about life, about what's going on right now, about what I spend my time doing. I haven't really come to any conclusions, granted even if I did they would change tomorrow when I walked through the cemetery again. I have been thinking about how I would like to change in the next year, about how I would like see myself and how I think other people see me, and perhaps what needs to change.

So in closing let me offer you some insight about my cemetery. I feel as though most of the trees need a good pruning, that headstones that are unique makes you question the person under the headstone trying to figure out who they are, and that plain headstones are an excellent reminder that after your life is over extravagance is unnecessary, (I realize that both statements are oxymoronish, but that's why I like it), Cemeteries are good for the soul and everyone should visit them to visit a passed loved one, or to take some time for yourself to find out who you really are. Thanks for Reading.