Naylanni Baez

A Place of Love and Loss

By Naylanni Leslie Baez

Cemeteries are a place of love and loss. Loss fills the land with souls who lost the battle to death, but love decorates the space showing remembrance of relationships shifted into a new form. Her space, decorated with the same old decorations, slowly dissipating, and the only sign of visitation are the new flowers bursting with color, illuminating her plot. The feeling of connecting with her again, no matter the method, fills my heart, showing my love through this act of service. 

Bending on my knees, I pull out the weeds to give new life to the land. I place bricks along the edge, designating her sacred space, a path of life that her spirit will walk. 

A dreary, gray tombstone becomes a tabernacle for the miniature statue of Jesus and Mary kneeling down who are displayed on the base. In front of the tombstone is a rectangle lined with bricks, enclosing the spread out dirt. A path of bright white, powdery rocks, almost blinding, diagonally displayed, stretches along the rectangular enclosure. 

Orange marbles scattered sparingly along the white path. A small, white pumpkin delicately placed towards the bottom right of the path and a bundle of orangey-red mums towards the top left of the path provide a sense of symmetry. Accompanying the bundle of flowers is a statue of a ladybug, almost the size of your palm, its paint chipping, due to the passing years. To finish off this wondrous display, a plastic cardinal seemingly floats in the air, its stick attachment stuck into the dirt.

Now it's on to the next. My cousin’s grave is plain and messy. The remnants of love scattered about, only known by the remaining flower stems. Childhood figurines lay cracked and dirty, waiting to be made anew. I grab my gloves and begin to pull out the weeds, ripping the statement that he has been gone for a while right out of the ground. 

Digging up dirt corrupted by nuisance plants, I shovel in new dirt, so that his flowers may prosper. I add a small white picket fence to show that this space is his…his holy home. I disperse miniature pumpkins around his plot, so that he may celebrate the fall festivities with us. And finally, I put down the Laffy Taffies that he and I used to share, so that he may know I haven't forgotten.

Standing up, I say goodbye; walking away with their spirits beside me.