Over the past six weeks, I've been to three funerals. My mother; the son of my wife's late parents' last living friend; and Lori Cannon. All at Shalom Memorial Park in Arlington Heights. I'm getting thoroughly sick of the place.
Which is not a criticism. Shalom Memorial Park is very nice. The funerals are run briskly and efficiently. The place is beautiful. True to its name, quite parklike. There are no headstones — the grave markers are bronze, flush to the ground.No headstones, but a few monuments there are — scattered benches, a mausoleum or two — more testaments to the futility of wanting to be remembered than any kind of aggrandizement of the wealthy.
A sylvan setting. Just not the place I want to keep circling back to. Though I suppose, if I have to contemplate the brevity of human life, it might as well be here.
To be honest, I didn't have to go to the last two. But my wife was going to the second, and I go where she goes. And Lori's, well, I considered it a sign of respect. She always showed up.
In each ceremony, after the casket is lowered, there comes a piece of funereal business where a packet of "Holy Earth" from the Mount of Olives is produced by the funeral director or rabbi, and scattered on the coffin lid. It is explained to the gathered mourners that since the Jew can't be buried in Israel — the ideal, apparently, though I don't remember a vote — a bit of Israel is brought to them.
Despite all the pre-ritual conversation, nobody told me this would be done at my mother's funeral, and while I wasn't about to object, I wasn't entirely comfortable with it either. She would have preferred dirt from Rocky Mountain National Park.
To be honest, I didn't have to go to the last two. But my wife was going to the second, and I go where she goes. And Lori's, well, I considered it a sign of respect. She always showed up.
In each ceremony, after the casket is lowered, there comes a piece of funereal business where a packet of "Holy Earth" from the Mount of Olives is produced by the funeral director or rabbi, and scattered on the coffin lid. It is explained to the gathered mourners that since the Jew can't be buried in Israel — the ideal, apparently, though I don't remember a vote — a bit of Israel is brought to them.
Despite all the pre-ritual conversation, nobody told me this would be done at my mother's funeral, and while I wasn't about to object, I wasn't entirely comfortable with it either. She would have preferred dirt from Rocky Mountain National Park.
What does "Holy" even mean? "Touched by God" by sounds right. Infused with the divine. Using that definition, either every square inch of the planet is holy, along with each and every one of us. Or none of us is.
The alternate, selective holiness, well, we see how well that's working out.
I'm reminded of last time I was in Israel, over 20 years ago. I took a tour of the Temple Mount, led by an Israeli of the type I usually associate with Israelis — brash, irreverent, candid. He told us that the Western Wall — it used to be called "The Wailing Wall" — is not actually part of the destroyed second temple, but a remnant of the retaining wall used to create the mount on which the temple stood. He also reminded us that there is nothing holy about it. "The stones there are as holy as the stones in my backyard," he said. "A stone is a stone is a stone. Jews don't worship stones."
Or dirt, for that matter. After the second and third funerals, I considered breaking off from the line of cars, finding where my mother is buried and ... I don't know, standing there, feeling sad. But the second time, we were heading to the shiva at the apartment of the father of the deceased, to pay our respects. And the third time, after Lori's funeral, I just wanted to get out of there. My mother could wait.
"She isn't going anywhere," I told myself.
Or dirt, for that matter. After the second and third funerals, I considered breaking off from the line of cars, finding where my mother is buried and ... I don't know, standing there, feeling sad. But the second time, we were heading to the shiva at the apartment of the father of the deceased, to pay our respects. And the third time, after Lori's funeral, I just wanted to get out of there. My mother could wait.
"She isn't going anywhere," I told myself.
I too have been to Shalom twice in the last month three times in the last year and I'm not Jewish.
ReplyDeleteAt first I had a fascination with the death rituals of the Hebrew faith
I now have a reverence.
I did not know about the holy Earth being sprinkled on the grave prior to the mourners shoveling dirt on top of the casket. They probably charge $500 for it. The funeral industry is annoying
I have been to Rocky mountain national Park and it indeed feels like a place touched by a spiritual Force while Gary Indiana not so much.
I think it's important that people show up and good on you that you do for your friends and family and that people showed up for you.
I don't visit the graves of my relatives .
Maybe I should it just doesn't feel like it accomplishes anything.
I guess it brings comfort to some people to each their own.
Though I like to wander random cemeteries. I lived across the alley from one when I stayed at 71st and Woodlawn . there was a Jewish section and it was in terrible disrepair.
Neglected for years.
And then one day on my walk I saw that it had been completely restored. a company had donated a lot of money to spruce it up. Which I guess is how it should be. I had really enjoyed that part of the cemetery when it was overgrown and gone wild. the deer and coyotes were wandering through and it just seemed like a place I would like to be buried.
The flat headstones and well manicured lawn do not appeal to me whatsoever I'll be put in the jar hopefully spread over the pitchers mounds on various Fields where I once competed so that some young man will dig his cleat in the dirt and unknowingly grind me further along on my journey back into the dust.
It won't be long
Really like your thoughts and words. Don't care for the flat bronze grave markers and treeless expanses of modern cemeteries like Shalom. It feels like DeKalb County. Have a few relatives buried at Shalom...aunts, uncles, cousins. My oldest cousin is there. Born during a freak snowstorm (May 1, 1940) and laid to rest in another one (April 1, 2004). Holy Earth is a new one on me. Damn betcha it's probably pricey. Would neither want it nor like it.
DeleteMuch prefer the oldest Jewish cemeteries out west, in Forest Park. In the general vicinity of the Hines VA Hospital complex and the Brookfield Zoo. Waldheim dates back to the Civil War and has over 150,000 graves. German for Forest Home, and it is one. Huge ancient trees, lush foliage, elaborate headstones--and simpler ones for the less affluent and the poor. Many famous residents: Emma Goldman. Billy Sunday. Mike Todd. Paul Harvey. And more.
Have vivid memories of visits there in childhood, and in my teens. My leftist grandparents are at rest in the Arbeiter Ring (German for Workmen's Circle) section. They were members. It's a progressive, activist, Jewish cultural and social justice organization that still exists today. Was taken to see them many times as a kid. Usually followed by a visit to the zoo.
Waldheim also had sections that saddened and upset me. Owned by old Chicago synagogues that had ceased to exist. Crumbling headstones of long-dead children from the 1920s, with trees growing out of their graves. Abandoned and completely neglected. Gotta wonder if they were ever rescued and restored, like the one on the South Side was. Haven't been to Waldheim in almost 40 years. Doubt if I could still find my grandparents' graves on my own.
Have not yet decided what will be done with my cremains. Not going into the ivy at Wrigley. Too many people have done that, and it's a cliche now. And the Cubs don't like it. Wrecks the leaves. Maybe into Lake Erie. Maybe under a bench somewhere. Do like the idea of my wife putting some of them into an hourglass on the mantel, next to the urn for one of our kitties. Then I will finally have that good, secure, and permanent job. The kind I never seemed to be able to find in my lifetime.
Thanks Grizz
DeleteYour words are mighty fine as well
The cemetery that I live next to was called oakwoods and it was established 172 years ago you should look it up it's got quite a roster of interesting people buried there including Kennesaw mountain Landis ring a bell?
Lots of civil war veterans buried there including some who died in the prisoner of war prison it was located here just outside of Chicago spent many a fine day walking through those woods 183 acres right across the alley from my house you asked the other day what would make you live there stuff like that
Yes, I have heard of it. Have driven past it. Did not know it was so big...183 acres of woods, deer, coyotes--right in the heart of the teeming city. Sounds like the Graceland of the South Side. Many famous people of color. Quite a few mayors. A few big-time gangsters.
DeleteThe list of those buried there is quite impressive: Cap Anson, "Big Jim" Colosimo, Enrico Fermi, Nancy Green (original Aunt Jemima), Jake Guzik,. Kenesaw Mountain Landis, Jesse Owens. Eugene Sawyer, ''Big Bill" Thompson, Harold Washington, Ida B. Wells, Junior Wells, and Ben Wilson
Sometimes I walk to a small cemetery near my house. Alger Cemetery dates back to the 1830s, when this part of Cleveland was still barely populated, and far away from the original city. Prominent locals and ordinary residents have been buried here for almost 200 years. On the first Juneteenth, I attended a marker dedication there for Henry Wright Born in Louisiana in 1797 as a slave, died in Ohio in 1905 as a free man. Which means he lived in three centuries. Wright was the first person of color buried at Alger Cemetery.
My dear friend Pat died in 1994, much too soon. She is buried in a blue metal casket in a Catholic cemetery in a north suburb .. I forget which one. But in her last lucid moment before life support was removed at her request, she whispered that she was going to Aruba. I prefer to remember her that way, on a sandy beach. For myself, I have arranged with Neptune Society to be deposited somewhere in Puget Sound. No casket or funeral for me, only the everlasting, ever changing water.
ReplyDeleteI love Puget Sound and it holds a very special place in my heart. If I don't donate my body to science, I really like the idea of being left there. I will look into the Neptune Society; thank you for sharing that.
DeleteIf Shalom Memorial was closer, would I go more often?
ReplyDeleteMy family doesn't usually visit deceased family members graves. Used to a generation or two ago, but not these days. My parents are buried in the cemetery we pass frequently and my husband always says 'h' to my mother and calls her by the name her grandkids called her before they could say, "Grandma". Warms my heart to hear that. We plan to be cremated -haven't decided what we want our son to do with the ashes. I would prefer to be sprinkled in the garden area I kept at our old house-our son and family live there now-so could be done. We sure don't want to take up space somewhere. And I sure don't want to be in an urn on the mantle.
ReplyDeleteI never heard about the holy earth from Israel. Some one has a good grift going. I told my wife about the Wall. She thinks that isn't true. It was the first I have read of it.
ReplyDeleteBoth of my parents are buried there. I used to go a lot on a Sunday morning to sit by my father's grave & have a "picnic breakfast" with him. I don't know why, but I pretty much stopped going after my mother died. I agree that it is a beautiful place. I even have 4 graves there that I have no use for.
ReplyDeleteI am in the process of donating them to the Friends of Refugees of Eastern Europe (F. R. E. E.). They were given to me and I feel they should be used by people who can't afford them.
I am going to be cremated. My cremains will be in the same niche as my husband's in a columbarium at Abraham Lincoln National Cemetary in Elwood, IL.
It is also a beautiful park like cemetary. They have created walking paths so you can take a stroll on a nice day.
I wave to people in cemeteries. If I know someone buried in a cemetery I wave when I drive by. Today I drove by Westlawn there on Montrose Avenue and waved to Bob and Silvia Sosson. If I'm out in Elburn driving to Reams Meat Market I always make sure to wave to Mrs. Vreuls the old Spanish teacher in Blackberry Cemetery. My friend Doug scatttered his folks at the public golf course on Lake-Cook Road in Buffalo Grove. (He sneaked them out after dark and sprinkled them in the sand traps.) I wave when I drive by. I hope folks will wave to me in a few years when I'm planted at Graceland. Making the turn at Irving Park Road. A little wave. I'll wave back!
ReplyDeleteI lived near that line of cemeteries along the Des Plaines River in Forest Park for decades and visited often. It was because Forest Home was secular that the Haymarket martyrs could be buried there. Then, of course, the wonderful "communist plot" grew up around their monument, including "Artist, Poet, Raconteur, One-armed pianist Edward Balchowsky". Also notable for its "Gypsy graves," often very elaborate and well-tended throughout the year. I noted that one had cups of coffee and bottled water instead of the cans of beer so often left beside the markers. After I posted the photo a granddaughter found it and confirmed that her branch of the family was non-drinkers, and she'd recently left a cup of coffee there herself. https://flic.kr/p/dHZmYu
ReplyDeleteRabbi Morton Berman, who was married to one of my mother's many first cousins, moved to Israel after retiring from Temple Isaiah Israel on the South Side. As a chaplain, he went ashore at Iwo Jima one day after the invasion. The shortly after he was buried on the Mount of Olives, a fence appeared around his grave. The Orthodox showed their displeasure with a Reform rabbi being buried there with the fence. His wife, who was head of biochemistry at Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem, got on the horn with various people in the U.S. and Israel, and the fence was removed within days.
ReplyDeleteMaybe its just me but I never understood the appeal of being buried in the earth after death. I figure you live life, you get sick, and then you die. The world, with the exception of a few friends and relatives, is not going to remember you long. Time marches on at breakneck (no pun intended) speed. People have their own concerns to attend to tomorrow....and so it goes. Cremation and scattering of ashes for me.
ReplyDelete