Dad and Death

The other day when I was leaving the gym, I decided to go visit my dad's grave. It's placed in a large cemetery off of Redwood Road and where my dad is buried has an incredible view of the mountains and the Salt Lake Valley. I've been there a few times since I've been back and I can't help but feel a mixture of emotion every time I go there. For those who don't know, my dad passed away after a battle with cancer when I was 4 years old - so some of my earliest memories are of visiting my dad at the cemetery. As I got older, I think part of me resented the fact that the only personal relationship I ever really had with my father was starting down at his bronze weather-worn grave marker. And for a while, I didn't go. I feel for many people, they avoid cemeteries because of negative emotions or because they don't feel the spirit of the person is still there. I think for me both of those reasons were definitely the case - I resented that place.

So it's been interesting for me to be back recently to visit his grave. I feel I've grown tremendously spiritually over the years and while I do feel close to my father spiritually, I've grown to enjoy visiting him. It may seem strange for people who haven't lost a close loved one, but I'm unashamed to say that when I go there, I will sit on the grass, clean the grave marker up a bit and talk to him about everything that is going on my life.

It was peculiar to me this last time I visited him though. I noticed from a distance that a mother was walking around the cemetery with her two children. They didn't seem sad and didn't seem to be looking for any specific grave site - they were just walking around looking at different ones. I heard one of the younger kids call out that he saw a grave site for a baby - and it made me remember when I was younger, walking around the different graves, trying to do the math in my head of how old someone was when they had passed away. Or when my family and I would go to visit my dad's grave and see an area that had just been relayered with sawd because someone had just been buried there - and show our respect by walking around it and not over it. Or when my family would bring flowers to my dad's grave and just sit and talk to each other, strengthening our relationships with each other. And I guess that's when it hit me that the idea of death has been something I had learned to accept at a very young age - And it made me wonder if these kids at the cemetery were in the process of learning it too. It was beautiful that day - sunny, warm breeze, lovely view of the valley - it made me realize that death and learning to accept it can actually be quite beautiful as well.