I’ve never really been to a graveyard in any significant way. I’ve seen them in movies, I’ve passed by them in cars, I’ve read about them and how they effect other people. I watch shows about the people that fill them, and have even considered that trade. I have some weird friends who like to perform rituals or dance naked in them. Yet I really don’t seem to have the sort of understanding or impression of them that other people do. I’m not sure I even know anyone buried in a cemetary or graveyard. I’m not sure I know anyone with a grave. I don’t remember ever seeing a real coffin in person.
Everyone I’ve known who I’m aware of dying has been cremated. I’ve seen a few different shapes and configurations for boxes and canisters containing human remains, and I’m aware of several relatives whose ashes have been planted under rosebushes my mother used to grow, but I never knew which bushes, so they weren’t like gravestones or any more special one than the other. (I’ve been trying to write this at work over the last 4 hours, but we have been too busy and I have lost my train of thought. I will try to conclude anyway.)
Really, I’m not sure whether I’m really missing out on something or not, because I get the feeling that at the most I’m missing out on physically localizing a sense of grief, and perhaps a sense of obligation that I must keep returning to that localization to pay respects to the lifeless remains that represent the memory of the life which is what deserved the respect. This is just one among many ideas or concepts or generally accepted ideas that I do not seem to share with the world around me through the circumstance of my life. I do not know yet if it will be a detriment to me, but I do not know how a lack of understanding could help me.