Soulless Cemetery

It is ironic that in the 21st century, even grief is unable to escape conformity.  From the moment we are born, we have to learn to conform to the rules and regulations bestowed on us by society, but these restrictions even follow us to the grave.  In this day and age, a cemetery appears to simply be a business entity where one's grief is tolerated as long as it conforms to the rules and regulations set by the cemetery.

My beautiful daughter passed away in November 2013 and is buried in Lincoln Memorial Park (LMP), in close vicinity to her best friend who had unwillingly embarked on her final journey six years earlier.

Before her departure, I had visited cemeteries a handful of times, and as a result, mainly associated the place with the passing of old people. However, I now have a totally different view of the place. I now think of a cemetery as a giant, multigenerational, multicultural, and spiritual dormitory where the loved ones of thousands of people are resting for eternity. Over the past ninety weeks or so, I have developed an intimate bond with the cemetery because my flesh and blood is buried there. Over this time period, I have observed the outpour of love by the living towards the departed. To me, the cemetery is no longer a desolate, creepy, and intimidating place but a place where love can be expressed openly and generously.

However, last night, I realized I must have a false view of what a cemetery is supposed to be. I realized that to people who have not suffered the loss of a loved one and who do not have a direct link to this place, a cemetery is just a big park that must be mowed properly, no matter what the consequences. The goal is to keep it orderly and clean so it looks nice, rather than providing an outlet for the grieving individuals who visit the place regularly to spend some time with their departed.

Last night, when we went to water my daughter’s two flower pots, we noticed they were gone, along with all the solar lights and other decorations we had put on her gravesite. The cemetery staff had confiscated everything from her grave, and the surrounding graves, without any prior notification to us so that we could have removed them ourselves! How disappointing indeed! Even in death, we still have to conform to some arbitrary rules set by people who are no longer alive. It seems as if these rules are set in stone and can never be changed (according to the LMP staff). How sad indeed that a few solar lights and a couple of flower pots are intolerable on our beautiful daughter's gravesite. Is it more important to have an even lawn than to provide her parents with an outlet to help them deal with their devastating loss?

What kind of cemetery would dictate the exact manner in which people can express their grief and sorrow? What kind of cemetery would be so rigid that the only decoration on a grave can be the flat metal marker ordered through them and no one else?  Who visits cemeteries regularly but individuals like me with bleeding hearts, who have a son or daughter or other loved ones buried there? For us, what matters is how we can feel close to our daughter’s departed soul by physically standing next to where her body was laid to rest. For us, the solar lights provide a magical effect at night, emitting colorful light above our daughter’s grave in the darkness of night. The lights provide the illusion that light is still shining on our daughter even though we can no longer see her.  

Had I had the freedom to bury my daughter in our backyard, I would have done so in a heartbeat. It would have been logical to bury her in the home where she had grown up. Had we been able to do so, we would have had the freedom to decorate her grave in a way which reflected her personality and interests. Since we are obligated by law to bury our deceased loved ones in cemeteries, then I strongly believe the cemeteries ought to show more compassion and understanding by being more flexible and tolerant.  

To the board of directors and the staff of Lincoln Memorial Park, the cemetery may simply be a business, where the least expensive way to mow the lawn is to force flat tombstones and nothing else. However, to a grieving mother like me, there should be a balance between the maintenance of the lawn, and the freedom to put a few personal objects on the grave of my daughter as a token of our love. LMP should provide a venue for expressing our grief and loss. To summarily state that the laws forbid any objects left on the gravesites, but the restricted tombstones and vases purchased from LMP, is an insult to the individuality and uniqueness of the deceased and their grieving families.

I personally find the cemetery more personable when I see the personal objects left on the gravesites which provide me with a glimpse into the former life of the deceased as a mother/father, or husband/wife, or beloved child, or veteran, or fisherman, etc.  Those little objects are small reflections on the personality of the departed soul. They make the cemetery look more humane, instead of looking like a desolate grave yard of indistinguishable flat markers with no humanity displayed.

I hope LMP will review their ancient by-laws and grant us some room to express the individuality and love of not only the departed souls but the grieving souls as well.