Taking Something From a Cemetery
Taking Something From a Cemetery
Sometimes it’s okay to break a strong cultural taboo.
It’s customary to bring things to gravesites — flowers, flags, coins, stones — and leave them there as an offering of respect. On the flip side of that, one of our strongest cultural taboos is that you’re not supposed take something from a cemetery, because that would be grave robbing — or at least that’s what I always thought. But a recent visit to my family’s cemetery plot has changed my mind.
Our family plot was established many decades ago by my paternal grandfather, Charles Lewkowitz. He was the first person buried there, in 1965; since then, both of my grandmothers, one of my brothers, one of my sisters-in-law, and my father have all been interred there. My mother, who’s now 100, will end up there, and so will I.
I try to visit the plot once a year. My mom used to come along, but a few years ago she decided that the trip was too long for her (the cemetery is about an hour’s drive from the assisted-living facility where she lives), so she no longer accompanies me. I usually take photos to show her later, which she appreciates.
This year’s visit was two Sundays ago. My girlfriend, E, came along. The ivy on our plot tends to grow faster than the cemetery groundskeepers can trim it, so I always bring some pruning shears with me and do some impromptu landscaping before I take the photos for my mom. Usually I just discard the ivy trimmings, but E suggested that we bring some of them home and put them in water. Eventually, she said, they’d sprout roots. I liked the idea of having a houseplant that had literally been fertilized by my departed relatives — a living link to a place usually associated with death — so I said yes.
After we got home, E had an even better suggestion: Since my mom could no longer visit the cemetery, why not give the ivy trimmings to her, so she could still feel a sense of connection to this important family-related site? It was such a good idea that I’m ashamed not to have thought of it myself.
I went to see my mom two days ago, and I brought the ivy. She was touched by the gesture, and was extremely happy to put the ivy on her windowsill alongside her other plants. I know her well enough to know that the mere sight of it will bring her comfort, and that periodically watering the trimmings will provide at least as much sustenance for her as for the ivy. All of which goes to show that sometimes it’s okay to take something from a cemetery after all.
Paul Lukas has been obsessing over the inconspicuous for most of his life, and has been writing about those obsessions for more than 30 years. You can contact him here.
Your normal little stories usually bring a sense of joy, since that is at the root of why you share most of them, but this one was extra special. Shoutout to E for being the source of such a feelgood gesture!
This was a nice thing to read this morning with my coffee. Cheers.