Tales of the Graveyard

Tales of the Graveyard

A few weeks ago, i attended a funeral. I helped bury a cousin twice removed. I barely new Barbra. Hell, i had never heard of her until the time of her death. I am not even sure i got her name right. However, i had to attend the funeral mainly because my mother was going and i had to attend and be sad.
Sad is one thing i can be. Tears would just be dramatic and i am not a dramatic human being. I mean, i have a cousin who just loves to cry at peoples funerals. Once, she passed out at our aunt's funeral yet never did she once pay her a visit when she was sick. However, that is a story of another day.
Barbra's funeral was attended by a few people. I have no idea why. The eulogy was in poor taste so i passed time by reading tombstones around. I try to think of the cemetry as a community of people from all walks of life. The young. The old. The poor. The bitter. The rich. All sorts. I would like to think that at some point, they gather around and exchange stories of the other world. The one we live in now. I am sure some of the people would like to return to their loved ones while others love it there, in the cemetry world. Some have made friends maybe. Some are bullied. Some have become celebrities there. The celebrated must be those who died heroic deaths. Soldiers who died in line of battle must be the popular ones. Drunk drivers probably lie about their death stories. Some deaths are just embarassing. My heart usually goes out to the little children who die young. While others sit around and brag about their previous lives, little ones probably just sit around with their tiny hands clasped together. I hope they get little glittery wings for good behaviour.
The recently died would probably still be in denial of what would have happened to them. Its a sad situation. I usually fight back tears just by looking around. A sea of strangers yes, but these are strangers i shall never get to know.