Let the Dead Bury the Dead...or I am the Worst Son

[rareboy]

Since my father died in 2004, our task has been to have a winter arrangement on my parent's tombstone near his birthday which is about a week before Christmas. My sis does my mother's birthday and summer in June each year.

I have been dutiful in this, every year...and then yesterday, we drove by a random cemetery in the city and I realize Holy Fuck...I had forgotten, in part because I have been wrestling with the respiratory virus and just over-busy. First time since he died.

Anyhow...I was thinking, maybe just send the money that would have been spent on this to a charity and then feeling guilty because why not both and then calling this morning and of course it is a blizzard...but they promised to have it dressed for Christmas.

But I am still thinking...when should this end? When I die? Or should I do it in perpetuity?

Should I feel guilty, not for not doing it, but because I forgot?

Has anyone else ever had one of these moments?

 

[NotHardUp1]

My feeling would be the same as for the flowers I send to weddings, or funerals or any other occasion. So many people think them a waste. But that is fine for them. For me, I do it because it is a tradition and custom I continue because it gives life continuity, and connection to those who came before and who come after.

Yes, I do some obeisance as a duty, but the larger part is because I want to. I believe in the forms of respect, when possible, and all the more in an era in which much of our world is coming apart culturally.

I alone dress my grandparents' and my great grandparents' graves, but not out of guilt. It is because I want to honor them now, when I am able, and I want their graves to show that they are honored.

If you have any qualms, watch Our Town again. You won't after.

Do what you prefer, but no guilt.

 

[rareboy]

Yes, this is why we do this.

These are the people who gave up so much so that we would have more.

And the greens with ribbons are really that demonstration to others that they are not forgotten.

Which is why I am stung with pangs of guilt that 18 years on, this year I just forgot to do it.

I was thinking of Our Town this week.