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  • Writer's pictureDiana

Ashes or bones, Gomes?

I used to think that I’d prefer to be cremated, you know?

nothing left behind.

ashes scattered, dust to dust and all of that jazz

because I was only thinking about myself (the dead one) and what I want.

(my strictly Roman Catholic Family would have a fit)


then I thought about the cycles of grief; they’re like waves, they keep coming in to our shores and with time we adapt to them the way people with waterfront property do

besides, we’re human, grief can never be a stranger.

we’re constantly reacquainted at various points in our lives

sometimes over and over again for different reasons (people, situations, experiences, relationships)

sometimes over and over again for that one singular reason

sometimes grief becomes a part of you

and sometimes you need it to be separate

like setting up a folding table in the other room so you can balance your work from home life and your home-home life

then I thought about the countless monthly visits I made to the cemetery (pre-pandemic) over the past 15 years, you know, once I was old enough to go on my own

I remember being distinctly aware of the relief

the relief of being able to visit at the very moment that I need to be there the most

“there” being the place (literally/ geographically and emotionally) where I was closest to my loss

the comfort, the closure

all of it comes when you’ve had enough time

and it will NEVER be at a pace that other people are comfortable with

(and I will never get over how much discomfort it causes people when they hear that you are “still” grieving)

that is why cemeteries are important

they’re not just a resting place for our dead

they’re a place for the ones left behind

to return to until they’ve learned to live with grief in harmony

however long that takes

again, when you’ve had enough time

time spent mourning properly

properly being whatever manner it takes for you to live through it with it around it, depending on the frame of mind you’re in, at any given moment

I’ve found, for me at least, having a place to go helped

ghosts or the idea of ghosts in graveyards never scared me because I haven’t seen one

let me be clear


(in caps in case they’re reading)

they can exist or not, it’s fine, I do not want to know

I mean I’ve had that feeling, you know, when your back is turned and someone walks up to you and you can feel their presence but you can only confirm it once you’ve turned around and seen them or they’ve said something or they’ve reached out and touched you

multiple times I’ve had that feeling and it has scared me, I won’t lie

the unknown always does that, doesn’t it?

scares us

anywho, my point is

I don’t associate graveyards with what folklore or the entertainment industry has conditioned us to expect/ believe

all I know is that my mother is there, my godfather is in one, both, my grandad and my phu(grandfather) are in them, so are my other grandmothers, my aunts and uncles and cousin

all people that I love and by whom I was loved in return

nothing scary about that.

a resting place is all that a graveyard is.

and it helped me to have someplace to go

so maybe,

just maybe, I won’t ask to be cremated after all

unless, you know, the plague gets me and I no longer have a say in the matter

cremation it is

either way,

since we’re here I might as well tell you

when I die

don’t wear black or “funeral-appropriate-attire”

wear whatever you want to

brighter than sunshine or morticia addams black

just maybe bring me a flower

if you feel like it

or not

no pressure

especially if you don’t feel like it DON’T DO IT

also don’t come to the funeral if you don’t want to, honestly no hard feelings, I promise not to haunt you (introvert to the grave and beyond lol)

I should stop here

more about what creature I want to come back as, in the next post

not come back-come back

just visitations you know

I’ll think about it

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