Kert, this is such an exquisitely beautiful piece, layered in its tone of loss, grounding, remembrance and impermanence. I was especially struck by the lines in your poem about two deaths, the one at last breath and the one when the last rememberer is gone. There is such beauty in that fragility.
Like you, I would prefer a green burial under trees or meadows of wild flowers, no marker. I want to be a part of nature's cycle of death as compost for new life.
You've inspired me to check my files for past essays that lay in wait -- our current moment is sometimes too overwhelming to stay present in its folds. Thank you for this beautiful piece that stirred the memories of my own father's funeral, and the laying to rest of a body but not the connection still pulsing in my heart.
Sending love and goodwill. May we all strive to be good humans . . . ~stephanie
I have it in my will, and have communicated it with my family, that I want my body “green buried.” Fortunately, this is becoming a more acceptable practice on a wider scale. Our current practices of traditional burial, including cremation, is not eco-friendly or sustainable. Another way I look at that is how we rob the earth of the minerals we took from Her upon our birth and life when we sequester our remains in coffins and urns.
But if anyone else is reading this, and is interested, you HAVE to communicate your wishes to your family and document it in written form that this is how you want your remains to be dispensed. The Earth will reuse you—so it’s another way for you to “continue living on.”
I'm not sure where to start, Kert. This piece has so many golden nuggets to discover. It's a conversation that is both personal and universal. How you weave together the personal and the universal, the poetry and the prose, is elegant and powerful.
Since I was a child, I have had a fascination with cemeteries. My husband and I lived next to a small community cemetery in Arizona, where the landscape was kept natural, and the stones were small. I always felt embraced and at peace while we lived there, whether walking through it or sitting on one of the resting benches.
Melancholy, perhaps oddly, is one of my favorite words. I think it's because it's an emotion I've experienced since childhood. Instead of fearing it, I've learned to embrace it.
This is such a lovely way to end my evening. Thank you Paulette. It’s not odd your affinity for melancholy. I get it totally as I think I was born manifesting the same deep, reflective emotion. It feels like we’d have a wonderful conversation over coffee, the two of us.
Beautifully written. My parents, grandparents and oldest brother are all buried in the same church cemetery. My living brother refers to visiting there as going to see the rest of the family. My late husband was cremated and I scattered his ashes in the forest. I will take the same route and have instructed family accordingly. I much prefer to rest among and become one with the trees.
That’s so lovely, Nancy! I just love the feeling of being able to give back to the Earth that which we took from it, to make our corporeal bodies, upon this body’s death. “Become one with the trees.” Indeed! And that’s exactly what happens. Love it!
Letting your words soak in. I like to think after death to live within the branches of a tree or better yet be a cloud. Love the thought of being in the endless cycle. Appreciate your insights very much 🌱
The more I study the ancient mystics, who spoke of Soul, and Tao, and boundless, eternal silence, and the more I learn about quantum physics, the more I stand in awe of what the mystic sages knew intuitively. And I guess we count Isaac Newton as one of those—matter (energy: aka WE) is neither created nor destroyed, just transformed. Endless cycle indeed. Which is another argument for me and my family to not sequester my body away in some ornate coffin or urn upon its demise (what a waste of time, money, effort, and space). Like you, Marjorie, let me be a cloud or tree—after, that’s where we came from, right?
Kert, this is such an exquisitely beautiful piece, layered in its tone of loss, grounding, remembrance and impermanence. I was especially struck by the lines in your poem about two deaths, the one at last breath and the one when the last rememberer is gone. There is such beauty in that fragility.
Like you, I would prefer a green burial under trees or meadows of wild flowers, no marker. I want to be a part of nature's cycle of death as compost for new life.
You've inspired me to check my files for past essays that lay in wait -- our current moment is sometimes too overwhelming to stay present in its folds. Thank you for this beautiful piece that stirred the memories of my own father's funeral, and the laying to rest of a body but not the connection still pulsing in my heart.
Sending love and goodwill. May we all strive to be good humans . . . ~stephanie
So grateful, Stephanie. Thank you.
I have it in my will, and have communicated it with my family, that I want my body “green buried.” Fortunately, this is becoming a more acceptable practice on a wider scale. Our current practices of traditional burial, including cremation, is not eco-friendly or sustainable. Another way I look at that is how we rob the earth of the minerals we took from Her upon our birth and life when we sequester our remains in coffins and urns.
But if anyone else is reading this, and is interested, you HAVE to communicate your wishes to your family and document it in written form that this is how you want your remains to be dispensed. The Earth will reuse you—so it’s another way for you to “continue living on.”
Good information and advice, Kert. I love that' I’d have a chance to give back some minerals.
Wow, Kert, such beautiful words - and yes, timely.
"...spread me to the winds and the waters
and the soil;
plant me in the landscape,
and your heart.
if i die a second time,
and i might,
at least i’ll die within you."
🙏🏼
There's so much beauty in this. I love, love the poem.
There are 4 cemeteries that stand out for me:
1. a small, ocean side Chinese cemetery where I spent many hours as a pre-teen
2. the large cemetery in Havana, Cuba
3. a tiny cemetery in a tiny prairie town where many of my ancestors are buried
4. a church cemetery somewhere in the Scottish countryside where I hoped to find some name to lead me to my own ancestors
Indeed, visiting each is an experience I remember deeply. I very much appreciate your call to be present and intentional in these spaces.
A stunningly lovely reflection Lindsay, thank you.
I'm not sure where to start, Kert. This piece has so many golden nuggets to discover. It's a conversation that is both personal and universal. How you weave together the personal and the universal, the poetry and the prose, is elegant and powerful.
Since I was a child, I have had a fascination with cemeteries. My husband and I lived next to a small community cemetery in Arizona, where the landscape was kept natural, and the stones were small. I always felt embraced and at peace while we lived there, whether walking through it or sitting on one of the resting benches.
Melancholy, perhaps oddly, is one of my favorite words. I think it's because it's an emotion I've experienced since childhood. Instead of fearing it, I've learned to embrace it.
This is such a lovely way to end my evening. Thank you Paulette. It’s not odd your affinity for melancholy. I get it totally as I think I was born manifesting the same deep, reflective emotion. It feels like we’d have a wonderful conversation over coffee, the two of us.
I agree, Kert. We may have to do a Zoom coffee sometime.
Have a good evening.
Beautifully written. My parents, grandparents and oldest brother are all buried in the same church cemetery. My living brother refers to visiting there as going to see the rest of the family. My late husband was cremated and I scattered his ashes in the forest. I will take the same route and have instructed family accordingly. I much prefer to rest among and become one with the trees.
That’s so lovely, Nancy! I just love the feeling of being able to give back to the Earth that which we took from it, to make our corporeal bodies, upon this body’s death. “Become one with the trees.” Indeed! And that’s exactly what happens. Love it!
Letting your words soak in. I like to think after death to live within the branches of a tree or better yet be a cloud. Love the thought of being in the endless cycle. Appreciate your insights very much 🌱
The more I study the ancient mystics, who spoke of Soul, and Tao, and boundless, eternal silence, and the more I learn about quantum physics, the more I stand in awe of what the mystic sages knew intuitively. And I guess we count Isaac Newton as one of those—matter (energy: aka WE) is neither created nor destroyed, just transformed. Endless cycle indeed. Which is another argument for me and my family to not sequester my body away in some ornate coffin or urn upon its demise (what a waste of time, money, effort, and space). Like you, Marjorie, let me be a cloud or tree—after, that’s where we came from, right?
Same here!!! I have been very open to these energies… allows me to spend time with Alyssa ✨🧜♀️✨