Is there a better way to feel connected to the meaning of life as walking among the dead?
Every time I walk through the cemetery near my Brisbane home, I think of the people who once walked the earth where I now walk, who warmed themselves by the sun itself.
Among the graves of those lost in the war, I learn of courage and tragedy. When I pass by small stones raised to lost children, I contemplate pain, suffering, and loss.
Reading a beloved husband, father, and grandfather fills me with thoughts of a long life full of joy and sadness, triumph, and disappointment.
And when I find inscriptions written in languages other than my own, or expressions of faith different from the one I grew up with, I reflect on the great differences of life, the unity of death, and the wonder that we all share space. , both inside and outside the cemetery walls.
From Toowong and South Brisbane to Brookfield and Bald Hills, Brisbane has some notable cemeteries. But are we alive making the most of these extensive, wooded spaces?
Cemeteries exist in the same dense, landless suburbs where people have no room to move and get to know each other. Cemeteries are usually large. Cemeteries can be managed by the town hall and include parking spaces and toilets and drinking water fountains. Cemeteries are usually quiet and contemplative places, and may have tall trees, winding paths, manicured lawns and ponds, and in some cases kangaroos, opossums, ducks, and frogs. And people who visit people who care for them. In other words, cemeteries are the perfect antidote to the chaos of crowded, high-density, disconnected life.
Toowong Cemetery: “Cemeteries exist in the same dense, landless suburbs where people have no room to move and get to know each other.” Photography: Kris Olin / Alamy
I think about this when I go to visit Nan and Grandpa at their eternal resting place. I don’t visit often enough, but when I do, I rejoice in this quiet resting space. They’re buried in the church grounds, and I like the idea of seeing how the wedding parties come and go; listen to families celebrating baptisms and counsel the wicked for the loss of another loved one. When I visit them, I kiss their gravestones and trace the letters of their names, the shared letters of our surname, and I miss them, I love them and I feel rooted in the dirt that surrounds them. Sometimes I carry my little daughter, even though she never met Nan, and she barely remembers her grandfather. Mostly, I go alone.
Cemeteries are places of mourning. And that must be respected.
But cemeteries also have a history as places of recreation, fundamental to community life. In his study of American cemeteries, Keith Eggener notes that large cemeteries built in American cities during the 1830s filled a void that was later addressed by art galleries and public parks. They were funeral sites, as well as picnics, hunting and carriage races. They were so popular that guides were published. In fact, today in Brisbane, you can take a guided tour of some historic cemeteries; some are self-guided, others are done in groups. Clearly, there is still an interest in cemeteries that goes beyond its main goal.
So what else could be done? Well, a swing placed under a shade sail and a few more bubbles would be a start. We could welcome public lectures, art classes, or meditation gatherings, and contemplate the magic of concerts in cemeteries (to be clear: I think more string quartet than stage is spectacular). The underground opera house in the former Spring Hill Reservoir, for example, has transformed a place rich in heritage value but of little public relevance into a beacon of Brisbane’s cultural landscape.
As always, it all comes down to balance. Living things are complex, different and demanding: we want to live in the city, but we want large open spaces to play. We want spaces for ritual, religious practices, rites of passage, and reflection, but not all of us can agree. about how, where and why. I want to reimagine cemeteries with respect, but I recognize that many are happy with them exactly as they are. And that’s fine. I am sure there is one thing we can agree on: that we all hope to rest in peace one day.