Tales from the Graveyard

For many, it can be hard to envision that even the most animated of all people can be reduced to ash and dust. This is what we call death in all its glory and its gloom. It is to extract the soul from one’s mortal body and take us to some unknown beyond, or to vanquish ourselves all together.
The cemetery remains our ultimate final residence; given to us by our loved ones or by the means of the public. I thought of this once as I went for a walk on my usual route which frequented by the old graveyard. On this particular visit, the gates of the local cemetery caught my eye. The light had transcended down against the iron cast fence and had burst out dazzling beams of reds and oranges from the rust. I sauntered into the cemetery and found the place the same as it had always been; indifference hidden behind the stones and tombs that laid out beautifully in misshapen ribbons of shadowed gray and moss. There was a strange calm flow of light and shadow across all of the foliage within this forsaken, yet overpopulated place. The trees stood in solemn reverence, protecting the headstones from weather as their roots entangled the dead below. They let off vibrant greens cascading across the ground like water. Headstones were weathered into dappled markers with the passage of time. Most of the headstones found themselves dating within the 19th century. Many were simple grave markers for children mingled in the midst of larger markers. And the foliage encompasses it all by slowly twisting its ivy coils around the perimeter and everything within.

Rotting is the competition here; as is becoming forgotten. Only the raised tombs of the once wealthy stood out magnificently amongst the humble graves of the ordinary, their stones slanting forward or backward from the harshness of time. Call it a morbid intrigue if you like, the fact that I find this place fascinating. It is like transference beyond this ‘veil’ that separates the living from the dead and brings us into unknown, unseen relationships.

Here the dead live within themselves. It is imperative to note that death is inevitably a part of life. Out of reverence for the dead and throughout the centuries all civilizations have created some type of burial ritual for their dearly departed. It isn’t just a way of going about and discarding dead things, it is much deeper than that. As such, it can be as ordinary as it can be in comparison to time itself. The dead are among us, and we show them respect by keeping the place looking as nice as we remember them. This is to say that the commonplace cemetery is kept well and in good order.
There are those who believe the cemetery is scary or a dreary place that one shouldn’t be curious about the deceased. Do they believe this to be morbid? Others see it is as place of bitter sweetness full of solemnity and respect, a place to weep and to contemplate. Possibly even more necessary, the cemetery is a place to show respect and love of our dearly departed, to never forget them; that their chronicle may live on upon the wagging tongues of mankind.
I have come to find, due to my own experience that the moaning ghost was once one who had fallen into complacency and habit; whereas he stood, living already dead before he really died. And they laid him in an indifferent box, in an indifferent plot, along with his new indifferent neighbors. The light and shadow that illuminates their memoirs and surveys the bittersweet calm of death calls out hoarse and solemn whisperings, like smoke.
You can only hear them if you listen with the utmost intent. They weep and moan and rejoice one with another alongside the weathering of their stones.
They speak of many things, but there was one that struck me that day. Quintus Ennius once said “Let no one weep for me, or celebrate my funeral with mourning; for I still live, as I pass to and fro through the mouths of men.”
I lengthily considered this as the air moved whisperings through the trees, and said to myself: “Quintus Ennius must have lived the life that reserved him a place forever in the minds of men.” This brought me to the question that made me pause in observing my surroundings. Who are we to be content? To be idle while the world offers us a lifetime worthy of being historically noted? We do not die the day we kick the bucket, but we die the day our stories have drifted away from the minds of men. That is to say, to never be lazy in this probationary state of existence because it’s your chance to really prove yourself and then entertain and share your wisdom for the generations after us. To direct our children and children’s children through the bleak realities of life, to enlighten them about being ensnared in joy, bliss, sadness, and immeasurable grief. And to teach them all of these things by the means of our own experience in the single century we abide in. If we live an accomplished life, then in a way, we live forever in the hearts of men.
Those who have been immortalized in history books are permanently plastered on those pages because they have done one of two things: overcome that which was around them, or overcome that which was in themselves. Fear is the one thing that drives us to hold back. But, why? What is the worst thing that could happen? Any failure that plagues us can be fixed. That’s the beauty of life and the saying "Life moves on". I have grown to know that we cannot waste our time because death is ever vigilant and often unfair. Our Grimm Reaper stands in close proximity from the day we are born and stands ever ready to draw just a little closer as the days pass by. Never be content, never find complacency, and never fall into mediocre habits. We are to live, and live to the fullest lest our judgment day comes as does the realization that there was too much to have missed in life. When death comes, I find solace in the belief that there should be no resentments, nor regrets. Just peace and the knowledge to know my story I created here in life will live on through the minds, mouths, and hearts of mankind.

My Testimony

There has nothing been more fulfilling in my life like the LDS church. I am a literal witness of the divine authority of the priesthood the men in my faith uphold. I have never healed so much from my own illnesses, weaknesses, and inadequacies than I have with this Gospel comprised with the divine goodness of our Heavenly Father. I know for a surety that this is the true Gospel of Jesus Christ. I was blessed so much by my Heavenly Father by being born into the faith; but I have had my downfalls and indeed once I fell away due to a phase of extreme rebellion. Even in my days of refusing to have the LDS faith in my life though; I never doubted that this is the true faith and Gospel of Jesus Christ. And now that I am striving along my path with this faith by my side; I can unequivocally say that nothing has blessed my life so much! The spirit of the Lord is with this Gospel more than any other faith I have looked into, and I truly value it for what it is: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. And there is nothing more fulfilling than having the Savior as the cornerstone and the very foundation of the way you live, love, and laugh.

I live my faith as honestly as I can. I want to please my Heavenly Father and show Him that I am willing to be His servant.

I adore my Lord Jesus Christ; He is the only man worthy to try and impress, and I find that when I am doing my best to try and impress my Savior- I find His love to be all the more deeper. The peace that enters into my life is unequivocally divine and miracles spew forth in such great abundance that I can scarcely breathe from it's goodness. There is no greater relationship to be made and had than that of a relationship with the Savior. When He is in relationship with you, then every other relationship in your life falls into place. Friendships grow deeper, family grows more precious, your own self becomes precious and of worth to you, and enemies evolve into dear acquaintances.

To pursue a life led by Christ one of the most difficult goals to obtain in this world- but I can say from the depths of my very soul that there is no other goal more enriching and fulfilling. Life, regardless of pain- remains optimally beautiful.

and I am so glad that such grace has never given up on me, regardless of my actions in this life. Divine love is not founded upon actions- Divine love is always there. Exaltation is dependent actions and sincerity. So never consider yourself to be unloved by God. He loves you as much as he did when you were three and without sin- He loves you when you are gone completely from His gospel- and even so, He loves you now, and He wont ever give up on you.

Remember: When you give up on yourself, you're not just letting yourself down. You let Jesus Christ down as well, because He died for you... I pray that you wont ever throw His sacrifice for you back in His face.



Feel free to share your testimony as well