I paused as I strolled through that quiet cemetery, aware of the stillness around me. Even though a busy road ran just a short distance away, little could be heard apart from the wind and the rain drops that were shaken from the trees. Here and there birds called to one another, but otherwise a reverent silence hung around me. I pulled my hood lower against a cool breeze and walked on again, lost in my thoughts.
I like cemeteries. I like the escape I find there from the commotion of life. There is no rush in a cemetery; all is still and calm. When I visit cemeteries and wander past that vast array of tombstones, I often wonder about the people buried beneath them. Who were they and what stories do they have to tell? I don’t see a cemetery as a morbid collection of dead bodies; I see each tombstone as representing a life – a life of color and beauty. I wonder what each person did with his life, what legacy he left behind? What impact did he have on those who succeed him?
On this particular day I was chagrined by the thought that the answers to these questions are summarized with only a dash – one simple, ambiguous “-” etched in stone. The injustice of the tombstone is that it tells the passing stranger the date of birth and the date of death but says nothing about the intervening years. Nowhere does it unfold the legacy each left or tell of the lives that have been influenced for good or for ill. We may be fortunate to have forgotten the records of some, but how many stories have been lost that deserve remembrance?
It occurred to me that only a few are granted the privilege of having history remember their names. For every Nero and Hitler we remember, scores of tyrants have lived to torment and oppress. And for every Lincoln and Mother Teresa, many more heroes remain over-looked, their actions forgotten.
But are their accomplishments really lost? Did their influence simply vanish into the grave with them? Indeed it did not! The average person cannot name Abraham Lincoln’s father or mother or grandparents or school teacher. But who would Lincoln have been without them? No one may ever know the names of Hitler’s child-hood friends, but which ones may have borne the strongest influence on him?
Many endeavor to leave their “mark,” when all they really want is popularity. And as they strive for fame, they ignore the truth that indeed history will ultimately acknowledge them. Their tombstone may leave only a dash, but the people they influenced will live on. They in turn will pass on that influence. Generations down the line, that influence will still thrive – unrecognized perhaps, but inextinguishable.
Succeeding generations may or may not know my name, but the present generation does. And those around me are the ones who will carry my influence beyond my time. I may never have school children reading about me and my deeds, but I wonder… what heroes or tyrants will I have influenced?
Very thought provoking. Nice post.
You’re such a good writer, I really enjoyed reading this.
Oh and I didn’t know of anyone else who liked cemeteries
I like cemeteries too! In fact, my first job was as a grounds keeper for a cemetery. I always enjoyed reading the tombstones, especially the little description often placed below the dates. Things like “a loving mother”. I thought it was interesting how a whole life was boiled down to a sentence. A single accomplishment. And I’d try to imagine what might be written on my own tombstone.