I will probably be posting on Thursday or Friday for Memorial Day. Will be posting on Tuesday; wouldn’t miss 5/31 in blogland for anything. But for now I am drained and might even watch American Idol, no–can’t do…
I’m not big on cemeteries. We would go for funerals and unveilings, when the headstone was put in, and my dad would greet each relative and former resident of the town his parents came from who were now residing at Mount Hebron as if they were alive. But he too didn’t believe in going on anniversaries or traditional holidays.
I believe that a person’s spirit resides in the places that they most loved. For my father that would be the city. For my mother that would be anyplace my father wanted to be.
My sister and I found a Mother’s Day card he made for our mother when we were very very young. He cut it paper into the shape of a heart and on the cover put a small piece of paper that was shaped like a clock. On top of that, he made two hour hands. One was over writing that said “Paris,” and the other over “Cairo.”
When I was four it must have seemed as if it were a pipe dream to my parents. “Cairo” must have felt as if it were an exotic fantasy that was totally beyond reach. They had no idea that within the next decade they were to begin journeys that would take them even further to more exotic worlds than they had dared dreamed.
I want to remember my parents as the adventurous romantics they were.
I do find it more than a bit ironic that the city my father so loved has become bittersweet for me as I fight to separate my mom’s death from the event that preceded it a month earlier and from which most people I know have never really gotten over.
Then there is that voice in me that believes that a large part of a persons spirit belongs in the last place you saw him conscious and talking. I so hope that’s not true as the last place that I saw my dad in, was Bloomingdale’s 59th Street, and it’s not on my top hundred places to visit, or even to shop in.
I can’t possibly believe that spirits would dwell at the last location they were conscious. If true, hospitals, for instance, would be inundated by the souls of the dead.
I always do get a kick from stories of graveyards being haunted. What happens to cremains scattered at sea? Is the entire ocean then haunted by souls from beyond? I sea dead people.
what a great site. I agree the spirit is where you always want to be
I believe that a persons spirit resides in the hearts of those they loved and loved them… this I truly believe.
Love your site…glad to have bumped into you again! (via BE)
Funny,
My father lives on in me every day of my life.He was the kindest man I
have ever known.I truly think of him every day.He was weak in that people took advantage of him.He knew but chose, or was unable to be anyone other than himsef.The greatest peace I have ever known was my father putting his arms around me.There was nothing particularly exciting about his life.He was however,in most ways a man who set an example.His life ended early and I was lost without him for a very long time.I try and emulate my dad although,I try not to let people take advantage.It is a fight for me as I am very much his son.I am proud of that.
“I believe that a person’s spirit resides in the places that they most loved. For my father that would be the city. For my mother that would be anyplace my father wanted to be.”
I don’t know if you’re right or wrong. But I loved that paragraph.
I have had plenty of death in my life but have never gone to a funeral. I never saw my brother get buried. My mother did not allow it and to this day I am thankful for that. I simply don’t have it in me to bury or to watch anyone get buried.
It makes it easier to remember vital and full of life…
I have been reading up… forgive my absence but the days I teach add kids, school and the like to the mix and I have to keep playing catch up.
I love the word chutzpah!
And yes, I think that your father understands the reasons behind your desire to move away from NY.
Your father’s spirit is in you and he is most likely thinking – Pia let’s blog this town.
i’mpositivef rom what I read about your father that he would not beat Bloomies.
I’d like to think that I’ll have a choice where I leave my spirit when I die.
Hopefully a library. I’m behind on my reading.
In response to what your first commentor said, While I am not sure how much I believe in the whole “spirits dwelling in the last place you saw them talking” or whatever, I do believe that many hospitals are filled with negative energy from the deaths that occured there.
In downtown Renton I don’t even go to the new Mclendon’s (Home Depot) because it is on the site of an older hospital where one of the doctor’s was so evil he was nicknamed “the butcher”.
But I do believe that there is a lot of power in the last place you remember talking to a person because… When they die, odds are that if they were important to you, you won’t forget those moments.
ANYWAYS!!!!
Visit my blog!!!
For the record… and really more-or-less off topic…
Many so-called “ghost hunters” go romping through cemeteries snapping pictures of dust particles and pollen with their flash producing “orbs” claiming they found the “ghosts of the cemetery!”
Well, here’s something to chew on…
Cemeteries, statistically, are NOT hotbeds of paranormal activity!
Believe it or not, aside from would-be ghost hunters, cemeteries rank VERY low on the historical reports of ghosts and hauntings.
You hit the nail on the head when you said spirits hang out at… well, ghosts tend to haunt where the person they represented lived, worked, played, or died… not where they’re interred.
In fact, most historically “haunted” cemeteries are “haunted” by a keeper or a frequent visitor in life… who now is seen flitting about.
The challenge I toss out to craptacular ghost-hunters is to pick up five “non-fiction” (don’t start, so-called sceptics!) books on ghosts (save any called “Haunted Cemeteries” or the like) and count the number of burial grounds… you’ll find it’s not so big compared to homes, businesses, and whatnot.
So, indeed, if looking for “spirits” in that sense, don’t start at the cemetery.
Now, that said…
I LOVE CEMETERIES!
There’s no beter place to learn history, marvel at artwork, and more or less get a “feel” for an entire community. I’ve visited dozens of cemeteries in my home of Ontario (Canada), Britain, France, and The States… I find them amazing places to be introspective and, in a weird way, meditate on life…
In the biggest and “best”(?) in Toronto, Mount Pleasant, I’ve taken my kids to see the MASSIVE mausoleums of the business leaders and famous folks of our city… and then counter that with the small area called “The Scattering Grounds” for the poor and “unclaimed”.
It’s like going from one social extreme (one mausoleum to the Massey family – as in Massey-Ferguson, Governor General Massey, and yes, actor Raymond Massey – is a four-storey castle with stained glass that’s surrounded by gorgeous trees…) to the other (the scattering ground is a small triangle with a small growth of trees and bushes with two square “monuments” with small brass plaques attached… apparently, for $35.00, your plaque can be afixed… but once the monument is full, the plaque is removed to make room for the new ones… in other words, NO “eternal” memorial… just ashes scattered.)
It’s easy to be sad and weep at the Scattering Grounds… and is also a REAL wake-up call with mortality…
So, I see HIGH value in cemeteries and visiting them…
Okay, TOO long a post! Sorry…
Sorry to hear about your parents passing away. I miss going to my son’s grave. It always makes me feel like I’m still able to do something for him by putting flowers or a decoration. Everyday is a day of memory, in my heart, on my mind, and on the tip of my tongue. God Bless you.
I watched American Idol the other night. I can’t wait to see who wins… Wait, have the winners already been announced?
I saw the old winner Carrie Underwood win an award at the Academy of Country Music Awards. She was so pretty.
Have a great holiday, that was great I can see your father now.