A Goth Anthropologist On Cemeteries, Shrines, and Veneration of the Dead

Cemeteries are incredible places, filled with sorrows and works of art. I've always enjoyed them, but haven't been able to make myself visit ours much since my brother died. His ashes are buried near a family of four that passed away late last year from carbon monoxide poisoning. (Please people, get a CO sensor. It could literally save your life.) Their graves are stunningly personal: the eleven year old's grave is a toy train set, the fourteen year old's a Rubix cube on it's axis.

I visit my relatives buried here and often leave gifts of small stones (I don't know where I heard to do this, only that if you visit a grave put a stone there and watch the stones pile up overtime), candles, mourning cakes on Halloween, and offerings to the spirits that watch over cemeteries and gravestones. 

Even those who are not Pagan find themselves leaving offerings of flowers, vases, pictures, and trinkets. There is a child's grave I cry over every time I pass, as visitors still leave baby toys there for him or her to play with. I can't stay long with child graves- having children of my own makes me internalize and empathize far too much. (Frankly it's the same reason I don't pay attention to the news; I'm still f****d up over a few stories about children I came across.) 

I like to think this is where the process of deification began, of how mortals became demigods and then gods overtime. The catharsis was less heroic deeds and more the remembering. My brother's grave is covered with trinkets from friend and family and strangers who never knew him personally but felt his impact nonetheless. You can't see everything in this pic, as more has been added since it was taken including peacock feathers, chewing tobacco cans, and other stuff a 17 year old should probably not have been doing.