A Walk At Laurel Hill Cemetery: On Mortality & Life

Since October is the unofficial horror month, I’ve themed it accordingly and decided to open the month’s posts with a cemetery visit. I was at Laurel Hill Cemetery a month ago, and it made me think about our mortality, among other things.

Note: If you’re sensitive about the subject of death, this post may be unsuitable for you. My apologies!

A little background

Founded in 1836 by John Jay Smith, Laurel Hill Cemetery was the second rural cemetery in the United States. I’d assumed this kind of cemeteries has always existed – I was wrong.

The dead used to be buried in family plots in rural family estates or churchyards.

Bodies of the very poor and minorities, unclaimed bodies and unidentified bodies ended up in potter’s fields, which were basically pauper’s graves. They’re often unmarked, and sometimes they’re mass graves, like the one on Hart Island.

When city populations exploded in the early 1800s in Philadelphia, churchyards became overcrowded with graves. Spurred by the inability to locate his daughter’s grave, John Jay Smith founded Laurel Hill Cemetery.

At that time, each burial plot cost $50 to $150. In today’s terms, that’d be a price of $1350 to $4050. It was really a cemetery for the wealthier folks, which explains all the elaborate statues and stones I saw.

Why do we have graves?

This question buzzed in my head when I was walking around the peaceful cemetery. Across different cultures, graves are remarkably similar. We carve our names, and dates of birth and death on stones erected over the buried bodies. Sometimes, we include our identity or a saying.

Remembrance and mourning

In the cultures I’m familiar with, graves are a way to remember and mourn the dead. They mark a spot we can go to, to visit the departed and leave flowers or an offering that they’ll never need again.

They’re a way to comfort the dying and those left behind by the dead.

When I think about a mass grave without any markers for the deceased buried within, there’s a sense of sadness and loss. That’s strange since I believe where we’re buried doesn’t change anything about the quality of our lives. There’s no need to feel bad for them, but part of me does.

I can only assume the sense of sadness and loss is part of the human condition. Maybe humans are inherently afraid of forgetting and being forgotten. That’s exactly the thought mass graves evoke in me – of people who died and were forgotten.

Our grave markers are like carvings on the surface of the earth announcing “so and so was here”.

But being forgotten is an inevitability.

I don’t speak for everyone, of course. Difficult cultures hold very different views about death and the afterlife. In Chinese culture, graves have a lot of implications – including whether a spirit can rest in peace and future generations can prosper.

What does a grave mean to you or your culture?

Display of wealth and power

Gravestones and monuments are also a symbol of wealth and prominence.

Depending on how you look at it, it could be a cruel reminder to the world about human’s superficiality. Even in death, the rich and powerful outshines the rest of us.

Oh well, it’s all part of how things work. I’m not complaining though. After all, I enjoyed, very respectfully, the beautiful stones and statues I saw at the cemetery. Like this one:

You’d have to be super-rich to order this impressive carving of a lady lifting the lid of a coffin to free the soul trapped within. I learned later that Alexander Milne Calder, the man who did the carving on Philadelphia’s City Hall, carved this. It’s a work of art that stands the test of time.

Besides, rich or poor, tragedy can befall to a family. I came across several gravestones of families who had lost multiple children. It’s a somber reminder to not take medical advances for granted. Child mortality rates were high back then.

A reminder about my mortality

Obviously, a walk in the cemetery reminded me that I’ll die too.

At this moment, I’m not afraid to die. I know that death can come for us at any time, but nature seems to have programmed us to assume that we’ll live for a while yet.

Maybe I’ll be scared when it’s my time. Not of what comes after death, but because dying is an unknown process. Is it like falling asleep? Or going under general anesthesia?

The thought of death is strange. I’ll never speak another word, think another thought, or drink another coffee again. I’ll never smile, hug a loved one, or feel my sweet cat’s soft coat again. There’s a finality to it, but only for me.

On my deathbed, would I harbor wishful thinking to see another day? Or will I accept that this is it?

I want to say I’ll be brave, but the truth is, I won’t find out until it’s happening.

On the plus side, I’ll never have to feel like a loser, go through the often tedious motions of life, and have another worry again.

What do I want for my grave?

Seeing these beautiful stones made me wonder how I want mine to be. On second thoughts, I don’t see the point of having one. Those who love me will remember me every now and then after my demise. If they don’t, they won’t visit my grave anyway.

For most of my life, I thought that when someone’s buried, the coffin breaks down as the body decomposes. All these years spent watching horror movies, and I never wondered why coffins are always still intact.

Researching for this post, I learned that the casket or coffin is usually placed in burial vaults made of concrete, metal or hard plastic. Many cemeteries insist on burial vaults to prevent the ground from sinking in. As a result of these vaults, the casket can stay intact for a very long time.

The body will still decompose though.

In Singapore, cremation is the usual way to go because of land scarcity. The urn containing the ashes are then kept in one of the shelves at temples or columbariums. They always reminded me of the locker rooms.

I hope I won’t pass away in Singapore. I don’t want to squander my last opportunity to repay nature!

A greener way to be buried

My ideal burial method is a natural burial. It makes the most sense environmentally and practically.

In a natural burial, the body is buried directly in the earth so it decomposes naturally. So there won’t be any embalming, casket or burial vault involved. One can choose to be buried in a shroud or a biodegradable casket, as long as they don’t impede the decomposition.

Our bodies will decompose, and the nutrients returned to earth.

It doesn’t make sense to me to waste more resources in death. Why bury perfectly good wood and concrete, or worse, hard plastic? Or put a body in a box only to burn them?

I don’t want to be pumped full of embalming chemicals too… Please note that one can choose not to be embalmed even with a traditional burial or cremation.

That said, I respect everyone’s wishes and beliefs in how they treat their bodies. This is only what I prefer for myself.

The most meaningful way for me is to return to earth as nutrients. Nature provided everything I need to be fed, clothed and sheltered. In death, I want to recycle back to earth without leaving boxes behind.

Maybe I’ll settle for a rock with my information inscribed on it to mark where I was laid to rest.

We think about death so we live harder

Do I seem dark for discussing my preferred method of burial?

I used to romanticize death, and for the longest time, I battled with suicide ideation. Today, I’m better. I’m talking about death not as a way to end pain, but a way to cherish what time I have here.

It’s always a good idea to discuss our mortality.

I received news that a cousin passed away this morning. She was 61 years old. Though no longer young, I think she would’ve assumed that she has many years to live yet. Her mom, in her late 80’s, is still alive.

Courage and gratitude

Death can come for anyone, at any time. The knowledge of this fact shouldn’t make us live in fear. On the contrary, it should help us live with courage and gratitude.

I’m not religious. I believe that it’s nature that provides for us, and we’re here by the grace of chance. Nature is an ever-evolving environment, us humans are just passing visitors who have evolved considerably over our relatively short history (if you look at the huge picture).

If we don’t do something about our climate crisis, humanity may not have another 100 years.

While I don’t always love myself, I enjoy many aspects of being alive. How else would I be able to enjoy the warm fuzzy feeling from loving my family and friends, watching animal videos, and the sight of a swallowtail caterpillar munching on a fennel leaf?

As I write this, the night is pleasantly cool, and the crickets are singing. Further away, cars swoosh by, unseen. I tap away on a slim laptop that allows me to connect with my folks 10,000 miles away in an instant. Life can be a bitch, but it’s also full of love and wonder.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll enjoy my coffee and toasts as usual.

If I wake up, that is.

Chances are, I will. But because I’ve been meditating on the subject of death, I’m going to bed thankful tonight.

---

If you’re ever in Philadelphia and want to visit a quiet historical spot full of beautiful statues and carvings, I recommend a visit to Laurel Hill Cemetery! It’s a great place to appreciate art, life, and nature all at once.

What are your thoughts about mortality? Have you been to Laurel Hill Cemetery? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

All Photos by Julie on Dark Blue Journal.