Shhhhhhhhh let me tell you a secret I love to visit graveyards.
The graves are like homes where we continue to visit our loved ones in death, just as we once visited their homes in life. Some cemeteries are so grand they truly deserve to be called a city of the dead - a necropolis. Wherever I go, I try to capture the voices suspended in marble, the dead remembered by stone, roses and tears. When I was a melancholy girl, I would make myself a picnic lunch and walk to the Weston, Idaho Cemetery almost everyday, there I would enjoy the peaceful atmosphere while munching my potted meat sandwitch..
My Grandmother Geneva taught me to be respectful and not to walk on the graves. She also taught me that graves always face East to greet the rising sun and the Resurrection.
Another time when I was a teenager my girlfriend Kim and I went to the Salt Lake City Cemetery to drink wine and horse around we were getting loud and disrespectful then something popped my big gulp cup from my hand and drenched me with wine and ice. Someones dissapproving Grandmother or Gramdfather I imagine. We both screamed and laughed hysterically while running as fast as we could go. Its rude and disrespectful to wake the dead with wild parties.
But I'm sure they will be expecting visitors on All Hallows Eve when the veil is the thinnest.
WooooOOOO00000 ARE YOU SCARED YET?!
No comments:
Post a Comment