Simple Suggestion #107... Visit a cemetery

The funeral of a woman I've known for a long time took place last Friday. I went to school with June's youngest son, and we sat behind her and her husband at church for years. She loved to look around the church on a Sunday and make comments about anyone and anything, reminding me of a little kid who didn't know you weren't supposed to be so honest out loud! She was interested in everything, she was entertaining in her own right, and she was the kind of woman that I imagined would go on forever. It's hard to believe that her heart gave out, because her spirit was indomitable.

Seems like every year at about this time, someone that I know dies, and it shocks me. You'd think it wouldn't surprise me anymore, but it always does. I guess, with all that Christmas celebration out of the way and ordinary life back on my plate, it's easy to forget that life stops. I suspect that there's a "death denial gene" built into human collective consciousness that fools us into thinking that we'll all go on forever; that life will always be the way it is.

So it's really easy to get complacent, to forget that our lives are a gift, and that it's silly to try to store up a lot of stuff here, because WE CAN'T TAKE ANYTHING WITH US. That's why I like this Simple Suggestion. I'm not saying that we should get all morbid and dwell on our deaths or anything. I'm just saying that visiting a cemetery is a helpful reminder that we and our lives are not permanent, so it's a good idea to live as simply as we can, and to bless others while we're here. The people we leave behind honestly don't want to have to deal with a lot of stuff when we're gone. A cemetery is a quiet, peaceful place where we can think about the blessings we DO want to leave behind, and how we can leave the planet a better place than we found it.

Of course, I wouldn't visit a cemetery in this cold weather. I'd wait until it warms up a bit, take a mug of cocoa along, and walk among the gravestones. I'd read a few, because they all tell stories, and I love stories. Or I might wait for summer and go have a picnic at the grave of someone I knew. I'd like to go visit Bob or Mary, my old gardening buddies and neighbours, and maybe take a few of their flowers that now bloom in my yard, the legacies with which they blessed me. It's a nice way to befriend my mortality, to acknowledge the fact that life is temporary, and to remember that she who dies with the most toys still dies, so why bother with so many toys?

P.S. Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Try here.