#memorials

the-haiku-bot:

polar-solstice:

My grandmother sent me an article about a gravestone in Brooklyn that features the deceased’s cookie recipe. I love this, I love the idea that after her death she can still offer up just one more thing to make people smile, one last good deed

Spritz Cookie Gravestone

But THEN I found saw at the bottom of the article that she’s not alone!

There’s a fudge recipe from Utah!

‘Kay’s Fudge’ Gravestone

And a nut roll from Israel!

Ida’s Nut Roll Gravestone

I love this. I love this gesture from beyond the grave, a covenant between the past and the future. They say “I’ve left you something to bring you joy”, and we say “I will remember you and your love”

I want to make these so bad now. I’m so full of love for these ladies

I want to make these

so bad now. I’m so full of

love for these ladies

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

should-be-sleeping:

ruffboijuliaburnsides:

slightlyunofficial:

cemeteries aren’t creepy they’re actually devoted to memory and rest and love and humanity

They used to be a common place to spend the afternoon and have a picnic and stuff! We should bring this back imo.

As a kid my grandpa used to take me to the donut shop then the florist and we’d eat donuts in the cemetery while placing flowers on all the really old unkempt graves.

Our parish’s cemetery custodian just retired after decades of maintaining our loved ones’ resting grounds. I’ve been recruited by the new custodian to help restore and replace the roses at the Marian reflection garden.

I’ll be going out there this weekend to see how the roses have been growing, to do emergency pruning if necessary, and what treatments are needed. Keeping my community’s place of mourning and memory beautiful is an honor.

thesaltofcarthage:

somecunttookmyurl:

thesaltofcarthage:

somecunttookmyurl:

waitforiiiit:

somecunttookmyurl:

if you would all like to cry a little more today, but also have a reminder that people have always been people, and we connect to those who came before us even if we did not know them

in glasgow necropolis, there is a gravestone. it is very small and unassuming. in fact, it’s very easy to overlook because if you walked past it it would not even come up to your knees and it peeks out of the surrounding foliage

there is no date of birth, nor date of death.

it is the grave of a child. her name was “Wee Bessie” Wilson. she lived, and then died aged just 2 ½, sometime in the victorian era (from the age of the stone, and the fact the necropolis is largely a victorian burial ground)

nobody knows who she was, anymore. but 150-200 years later people leave flowers, toys, brightly coloured pinwheels, teddy bears, or seashells on it as they pass

bessie is gone. everybody who knew bessie is gone. the people who knew the people who knew bessie are gone. but she was 2 ½ years old and goddamnit she’s going to have a brightly coloured pinwheel or a teddybear or a pretty seashell

It’s important to me to point out that Wee Bessie didn’t have “accomplishments”. She didn’t have a degree, or a particular job title, or a salary. She wasn’t a homeowner or a parent. Her life was not impactful because it was goal-oriented, it was impactful because it happened. Her legacy is in her existence, not in a checklist, and your life is valuable regardless of what you achieve or what you leave behind.

from the size of the stone, her parents were not wealthy. but they loved her enough in her short life to give her what they could. to make sure she was remembered.

and after all this time, strangers still honour that by making sure a toddler has a toy.

between this and King Tut’s ducks I see we are having a Weep Over Children Day on tumblr

as the op of both posts i did that on purpose and i will not apologise

nor should you apologize; it’s good for us to recognize our humanity.