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Do you ever go to "visit" a cemetery?


purplekow
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My grandpa died young so when we visited my grandma who did not drive, we would go to the cemetery. It is located on a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. The town was prosperous with lumber in the 1880's so there are grand victorian marble monuments, vaults and mausoleums with copper paneled doors and stained glass windows. There are civil war solders, steamship captains, railroad people, lumber barons, children, all resting under the canopy of the century old oak trees. It for me is one of the most peaceful retreats from the world, to remember my family and place to walk and just "be". The newer ones with the a flat miles of grass level markers with no trees in site are impersonal, except for the area my daughter is buried, it is in the infant section, so it is always decorted with flowers, small stuffed animals, pin wheels, hot wheel cars and candles. It is a totally different, more of a testimate of longing to still connect in some way.

Having never been a father, I cannot imagine the pain of losing a child. No matter how long ago, I imagine it is fresh each time you consider it. My condolences on you loss and ongoing pain,

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I also forgot to say-and I needed to look up some specifics-but in Judaism "praying to the dead" (I am quoting from a website) was not encouraged. So the practice of visiting the cemetery was to be restricted to certain special times. One of these as I discussed above is the yearly Yahrzeit. Another occasion is more of a community event. It occurs on the Sunday between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Members of the congregation will meet for a service at the cemetery. Where I grew up, the community was too small for its own cemetery. I believe the service was held at the Jewish section of one of the local cemeteries. I actually can't remember if I ever went. Maybe once when I was in college. When I was growing up, I always viewed it as one of those things adults did. I'm not sure very many children attended. On the other hand I don't know for sure as I never went.

 

We also have to custom of when we go to a grave, we find a small rock or stone to put on the headstone as a sign of respect. If you go to a Jewish cemetery/grave, you may very well see some rocks on top of the headstone. It's a sign someone visited. Looking at one website, it said the custom may have originated because rocks were once used to mark our the positions of graves. At my father's resting place, some family has donated a stone/concrete receptacle to hold stones to be placed on the headstone, so you don't have to look around on the ground to find one.

 

Gman

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I love cemeteries. Especially Gothic/Victorian ones.

 

In my youth, I used to take first dates on picnics in the Laurel Hill Cemetery in Philadelphia.

If you were into it, we were a match. If not, well....better that we find out early on, right?

Needless to say, most dudes were NOT into it and I rarely got past the first date.

 

And people wonder why I’m still single....lmao.

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People in the military usually celebrate Memorial Day. My dad was part of the second world war, and there are always small flags near his grave by middle to late May. Volunteers must place the flags. Much appreciated.

 

I remember my parents, and friends, many of the men who served in WWII, used to say Decoration Day. Our immediate family never did decorate a grave, maybe because my parents were immigrants, and my father was the first generation to serve in the US military during WWII, and they knew none who were buried, but I always liked the term rather than Memorial Day.

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When I was in Paris, I spent an entire day visiting two of the “big” cemeteries of the city: Père Lachaise and Cimetière de Montparnasse. I enjoyed the decorations and how peaceful the places were.

I have visited Pere Lachaise in Paris, placed flowers on the grave of Edith Piaf & wandered for hours in its peace & tranquility.

I occasionally visit the grave of a colleague & friend but never visited those of family, most of whom I didn't know.

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I remember my parents, and friends, many of the men who served in WWII, used to say Decoration Day. Our immediate family never did decorate a grave, maybe because my parents were immigrants, and my father was the first generation to serve in the US military during WWII, and they knew none who were buried, but I always liked the term rather than Memorial Day.

The term "Decoration Day" was used as early as just after the Civil War. Of course, the custom of 'decorating" graves goes far back in history.

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In Cambridge, Massachusetts there is a beautiful cemetery, The Mount Auburn Cemetery. Wonderful place to walk and look at the outstanding horticultural specimens.

And each of those specimens are marked with the English and Latin names. It's like a

walk thru and arboretum except your among Longfellow, Julian Ward Howe, countless Cabots and Lowells and Mary Baker Eddy. Mount Auburn Cemetery. If you can't get to the Boston area, Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn is similar. It dates from a few years after Mount Auburn. There among its foliage you'll find the graves of Leonard Bernstein, Elias Howe, Lola Montez, and a lot more famous folk than in Mount Auburn.

 

My family is interred in the low rent district: The Cambridge City Cemetery. The plot was bought about 100 years ago when my mother's youngest sister died as a child in the Spanish Flu epidemic in 1918. Most of the plots nearby were sold at the same time and for the same reason. To wander among them today you can infer from the tombstones the terror that went on then. Mother and child dead within a year. Husband and wife the same. When I visited the cemetery just before the holidays in 2008, the cemetery was strewn with Red Sox caps, newspapers and other memorabilia. Back in 1990, just before he died, my father had reminded my that he was 5 when the Sox last won inn 1918. In case you're wondering, Henry and William James and William Dean Howells share space with my family.

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I also forgot to say-and I needed to look up some specifics-but in Judaism "praying to the dead" (I am quoting from a website) was not encouraged. So the practice of visiting the cemetery was to be restricted to certain special times. One of these as I discussed above is the yearly Yahrzeit. Another occasion is more of a community event. It occurs on the Sunday between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Members of the congregation will meet for a service at the cemetery. Where I grew up, the community was too small for its own cemetery. I believe the service was held at the Jewish section of one of the local cemeteries. I actually can't remember if I ever went. Maybe once when I was in college. When I was growing up, I always viewed it as one of those things adults did. I'm not sure very many children attended. On the other hand I don't know for sure as I never went.

 

We also have to custom of when we go to a grave, we find a small rock or stone to put on the headstone as a sign of respect. If you go to a Jewish cemetery/grave, you may very well see some rocks on top of the headstone. It's a sign someone visited. Looking at one website, it said the custom may have originated because rocks were once used to mark our the positions of graves. At my father's resting place, some family has donated a stone/concrete receptacle to hold stones to be placed on the headstone, so you don't have to look around on the ground to find one.

 

Gman

I learned this beautiful tradition from my Jewish friends in NYC. They explained that in their tradition, a soul lives on as long as there is someone alive that remembers them. By leaving the pebble there's a sign that the person buried there lives on in heart of the living. Years ago I visited a German cemetery with some German friends to pay respects to a German conductor who'd been important to all of us. The stone was taller than the conductor buried there and was embedded in yew bushes that surrounded it except for the face. I reached down to pick up a pebble and the two friends were stunned. They asked "Judden?" I explained the tradition and they too picked up pebbles. We parted the yews on top only to find three already there. We hugged as brothers. BTW the conductor we honored was important in the continuity of protestant church music in Germany after WW11.

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I learned this beautiful tradition from my Jewish friends in NYC. They explained that in their tradition, a soul lives on as long as there is someone alive that remembers them. By leaving the pebble there's a sign that the person buried there lives on in heart of the living. Years ago I visited a German cemetery with some German friends to pay respects to a German conductor who'd been important to all of us. The stone was taller than the conductor buried there and was embedded in yew bushes that surrounded it except for the face. I reached down to pick up a pebble and the two friends were stunned. They asked "Judden?" I explained the tradition and they too picked up pebbles. We parted the yews on top only to find three already there. We hugged as brothers. BTW the conductor we honored was important in the continuity of protestant church music in Germany after WW11.

I have heard it said that men die twice, once when they physically die and once when their name is uttered for the last time. So some of us live on for centuries, others generations and the most unfortunate among us, live on for only a brief time after the body has perished.
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The term "Decoration Day" was used as early as just after the Civil War. Of course, the custom of 'decorating" graves goes far back in history.

 

Interestingly enough as I alluded to in my prior post, in Judaism we aren't really supposed to decorate graves. I'm wondering if originally it was thought to be idolatrous. We don't embalm either. Technically per at least one of the ancient rabbis, people were not supposed to be buried in their finery. Death was supposed to be a great equalizer between rich and the poor. Religious Jews (men) are supposed to be buried in a simple white robe called a kittel. This robe is also worn by the groom at weddings (Note: I'm not sure I've ever seen one worn by a groom. But as far as I can remember, I've never been to an Orthodox wedding. All the weddings I've been to have either been Conservative, Reform, and/or mixed marriages.)

 

But back to the no decorating graves, that's why in general there aren't flowers on Jewish graves. The scene in Driving Miss Daisy where Daisy is planting flowers on her husband's grave is a big mistake.

 

Gman

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My mother was not one to visit relatives' graves in cemeteries, but she liked visiting cemeteries when she traveled. My dad loved visiting buried relatives and also enjoyed visiting cemeteries. When my brother and I were kids and the family went on a day trip one thing was sure: we would visit a cemetery!

 

While there are several cemeteries in Chicago, the three most prominent are Rosehill, Graceland, and Oak Woods. All three are worth a visit when making a trip to Chicago.

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My mother's family has a family plot in a tiny country cemetery in Western New York. My great-grandfather was born in 1824. I used to drive out there from time to time and just stand there and allow myself to feel a connection to these family members that are so remote in time from me. Nobody knows much about them. A woman contacted me through 23 and Me who turned out to be a distant relative. With the information she gave me, I was able to fill out my mother's family tree all the way back to the late 1600's

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I have visited Pere Lachaise in Paris, placed flowers on the grave of Edith Piaf & wandered for hours in its peace & tranquility.

I occasionally visit the grave of a colleague & friend but never visited those of family, most of whom I didn't know.

That's a great cemetery for celebrities. I remember visiting her site, as well as that of Gertrude Stein and Jim Morrison. My parents were both cremated, but, strangely, neither myself nor my siblings want to be cremated. We each want to be buried. The strangest part of my wish to be buried is that I have no children and no expectation that anyone will ever remember me or visit my grave-site. Well, I will be leaving a generous scholarship endowment fund, so, who knows, maybe a grateful student will visit it at some point? This scholarship fund will be the way to keep my name remembered.

 

The translation is very loose, but gives a general idea of what's being sung.

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