Hearing the voices

I visit the graves of my parents and sister. They are buried together in Fremont, Ill. It’s a tiny town north of Chicago. I always cry. But I always talk to them, and I swear that I hear their voices in my head. I come away exhausted and energized at the same time.

– Tom

Remembering Mom

My Mom died suddenly, 11 days after 9/11, from a heart attack. I always associate her as being killed by the attacks of 9/11, because she was so distraught by what families that lost people were going through. I was 23 at the time and it changed my life forever.

I am 47 now. My dad is battling cancer. I don’t think about my Mom as frequently as I feel I should. Every year that has passed since her death, there seem to be less and less instances that we talk about her as life continues to happen.

That said, any time I visit All Souls Cemetery and actually see her name etched in stone is a very impactful reminder of how much I was loved, how much I miss her. I prefer visiting her alone. Most times, I shake my head in disbelief that she passed at 53. I get emotional about her not meeting my 19- and 16-year-old boys, but also get to remind myself of all the great memories.

– Pete

COVID & closure

My parents are buried in a small country cemetery in Transfer, Pa. I try to drive back and visit the graves at least once a year for a peaceful reflection of them – mostly to reminisce of our lives together.

When my mother died of Alzheimer’s and COVID in late 2020, we were not able to travel due to restrictions. I had a COVID high temperature for 10 days. We watched the funeral via a Zoom call while no one attended due to COVID rules. A heartbreaking way to say goodbye.

Last week, my sister (age 80) and her family came from Texas to join me (age 76) and my wife on our drive to PA for a sense of closure and to say one last goodbye to Mom and Dad together. We said our goodbyes and shared some memories while smiling and crying. That visit provided one last memory we will cherish forever.

– Dan

The Jewish tradition

At the time of a Jewish funeral, there is not a stone. This comes later, and the timing is a personal choice. We often speak of a stone setting where a service is held on that occasion. The stone is swathed in cheesecloth and removed, and prayers are said. I’ve been told this is very much a Jewish-American custom.

One special thing many do before leaving the cemetery is to leave a small rock or some object on top of the stone, signifying that a mourner was there. The most traditional time that Jews go to the cemetery is between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. This is seen as a significant time to pay such a visit. Others may go at a time that is meaningful to them, perhaps on a birthday or the actual day that the individual passed away.

Traditionally, mourners may go to the synagogue for services for 11 months after someone has died, saying a prayer called the Kaddish; in commemoration of a loss.

One would observe the anniversary of the loss (Yahrzeit) each year by going to services and saying the memorial prayer mentioned. Other days that are marked by saving special memorial prayers (Yizkor) are on Yom Kippur, Passover, Sukkot and Shavuot. These are times when we remember those we have lost and what they meant to us.

– Patty

Arlington Cemetery & the military

Several years ago we went to Arlington National Cemetery to place flowers on the grave of a friend’s daughter named Mara who died far too young. It was a very hot day. The section of Arlington in which she is buried is without any shade and is about the size of a football field.

After many, many minutes of searching without success and the sweat dripping off us, I said out loud, “Mara, I’m going to need some help.” I turned around, and right there was her headstone.

Typing this still gives me chills.

– Jim

My husband and I most frequently visit his parents’ graves at the Ohio Western Reserve National Cemetery. The beauty, patriotism and thankfulness we feel at this cemetery is overwhelming. Knowing about a dozen veterans laid to rest there, we always visit his parents’ graves and then alternate visits to other graves.

– Cindy

Vietnam Dad

I take my children to my father’s grave to show respect. He was a Vietnam combat veteran who was part of the Army’s Civil Operations & Revolutionary Development Support in Hau Nghia Province Advisory Team. My father replaced one of the first casualties of the Tet Offensive. When he returned home, he got spat on in the face twice at Hopkins Airport, then immediately re-enlisted in the Army Reserves PSYOPs.

My father was livid with what he saw during the war and wanted to do all that he could to avert another unjustified war to protect future generations of our military.

My father retired as a decorated senior intelligence officer. His day job was as a Probate Attorney in Euclid, while also being an adviser to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He co-authored the very first PSYOPS Studies on Belorussia and Ukraine. My father, Major Michael R. Perme.

My children and I visit his grave on his birthday. It falls on Memorial Day once every seven years or so. My father sacrificed everything for this country. While my children never got to meet him, they will grow up with him being as much of a presence in their lives as possible.

– Rachel

Civil War memory

For me, there was nothing quite like having that special personal feeling of standing for the first time at the final resting place of my Civil War ancestor. He was my second great grandfather. He is buried in a rural cemetery located in faraway Pickaway County. I had never visited before, thus reaching the culmination of my decades-long research to learn all I can about his life.

– Linda Jean

A sacred space

I have gone only to visit specific graves of family members during Jewish stone settings and funerals. I have never felt drawn to visit at other times. My loved one isn’t there in my mind’s eye.

I do visit cemeteries for some of the reasons you mentioned. I love the peace, the nature and the artwork of the stones and monuments. I find the spaces sacred, but not because of the dead. The sacredness is in the deceased hopes, dreams, tragedies, loves that carry on in the ripples from their life. It is powerful to feel all that has passed.

– Cindy

Time to remember

I do visit my parents’ grave occasionally, usually on one of their birthdays or Mother’s/Father’s Day. They are buried in a pleasant place with large pine trees, and it is comfortable and I can feel their presence there more than other places that remind me of them. The cemetery is close by and easy to pull over to stop and reflect on the impact they had on my life.

– Mike

Mixed feelings

I have visited my deceased family members through the years, especially my dad, who passed at 55.

I can’t explain the feeling I got after my visits, but I always knew, no matter what happened, everything was going to be OK. My sister, Joanne, is a different story. She was my rock. I could always count on her for sage advice. Her passing left such a void in my life … It’s just too painful to deal with.

– Maria

I used to belong to a church that would say, “Why go to the grave site when nobody is there?”

I never wanted to be there communing with the dead, called necromancy. One year, my Dad asked me to go to my sister’s grave and put flowers on there. I said “Noooo!!!! She is alive in heaven. She is present with the Lord. I do not want to go!”

After I hung up, the Lord laid on my heart to call him back and go with him. Perhaps I was to help him bring closure, as well as comfort to him as he grieved. Well, we could not find the headstone with her name. My Dad was saddened. I was there to tell him about a visitation the Lord gave me. So I know she made it to heaven.

– Michelle

Leave a penny

Yes, indeed I do visit cemeteries — to honor my own ancestors as well as to honor other people’s ancestors who are interred there as well. I always leave a penny or a small pebble on my people’s headstone. A cemetery is a rich historical quilt of memories, tears, joy and love.

– Allison

Take some hope

I’m 64, and I have been going to our local Catholic cemetery on a regular basis for years. All four of my grandparents were immigrants to Tuscarawas County, so we were a close family, and few relatives strayed out of the county.

It is emotional. It can bring tears and sadness. But as I walk through the cemetery and say my hellos and pray for their souls, there is one overriding emotion: hope. Hope that we all will be united through God’s mercy. And that always makes me smile.

– Tom