18/03/2024
I was driving passed the Rockingham cemetery the other day, as I do sometimes on the way to work, but this morning it looked a little different. It was around 7:30am and the light was… perfect.
The sun was catching the corners of the stone graves, the grass was slightly dewy and I couldn’t help but think how beautiful it looked.
Such a contrast to how I used to see cemeteries when I was a kid. They were a bit of a novelty. Remember that superstition where you had to hold your breath as you were driving passed, you know, to avoid breathing in any spirits…… wouldn’t want that.
What a place of love though, right? You only really see that as you get older.
I went to visit a friends little boy recently at karrakatta cemetery. We met randomly, her and I, and it was a case of your son died, my son died, did we just become best friends? Yep!
Let me tell you, this cemetery is huge, huge! I don’t know if I’m map illiterate but it’s like navigating your way through a fu***ng labyrinth. But once you spot it, you’d recognise the children’s section from a mile away.
It’s probably the saddest thing you’ll ever lay your fu***ng eyes on. The moment you start to walk through, it’s impossible to not get an overwhelming sense of grief. You feel that kind of sadness in your bones, even when it’s not your sadness to feel.
Walking through I always try to stop and read as many of the graves as I can. Their name, their age, the sweet message their family has left them, and of course, the little trinkets that have been gifted to them over time.
This visit was a little different because I’m usually alone, but I noticed as I got closer, there was a man sitting on the grass a row in front of me, head down, in front of a small, white cross.
I sat down cross-legged, gave the stone a clean and had a chat…. Like a crazy person… at a grave…
And then I just sat, and even though this stranger and I sat in silence, beside the occasional tearful sniffle from one of us, I felt a connection to him. I really wanted to run over and sit next to him, hug him, ask him all about his son or daughter, but I wasn’t sure how far in he was - he might not have been ready to be accosted by a seasoned grief veteran (and when I talk death boy do I talk hard!)
Anyway, to that man, I hope one day you can sit in that spot without it taking your breath away. I hope you can sit there and enjoy the calm. Appreciate the light shining through the gaps in the trees and I hope one day the love will outweigh the sadness.
