Memory 5.30

John Cherek wrote an editorial in this morning’s StarTribune newspaper. He wrote of the changing attitudes towards cemeteries. The cremation rate in Minnesota has risen above 35 percent and he comments that cemeteries are seemingly irrelevant. He argues, however, that they still hold an essential place in our lives and society. His observation is that by its very essence. . . “Literally grounded in place, a cemetery visit offers the chance to disengage from our hectic lives and engage in a different reality -- that of our connection to a larger community linked over time, by blood, and through human experience. Here we can pause and reflect on our own finite life journey. But the cemetery's greatest gift is in the remembering.”

And “By providing a special place of remembrance, cemeteries teach families and communities a valuable lesson -- that we are not islands unto ourselves but connected in an unending river of life. We may feel alone and powerless in this confusing world of ours, but in the cemetery, we can discover our spiritual connection to the human family, unbroken by death.”

I’m not usually one to visit cemeteries, unless it's in a distant place and for “historical” reasons. Concerning my sister’s gravesite, I’ve often told my parents that I don’t picture her there, and therefore don’t sense a pull to the place. They are always faithful in visiting each Memorial Day and on her birthday (also my birthday,) but I’m not.

I had no plans to visit Hillside Cemetery today. I relaxed around our house this morning, visited my parents' house, and then I decided to join my son Mark and his two friends for a round of Frisbee golf. They wanted to try out a new course east of our home. We had a fun time as they beat the snot out of me. Hot shot kids.

After completing the course they asked if we could check out one more course, new to them. I agreed, but I had a request first. While playing I was thinking about how close we were to Hillside, the location of my sister's grave. So I asked if they would mind stopping there on our way to course number two. They were willing and so we went.

I guess I had the desire to go more for my son (and for us) than for me. It’s one thing for me to have memories in my own mind; but for him to build memories, it’s helpful to see real places and touch real marble and not depend merely on what’s hidden in my head. So we went. And I had my camera.