Secrets to the Grave

There was something about cemeteries that she’d always been drawn to. The peaceful solitude, the mystery that each headstone or plaque promised of a life lived and lost, the untold stories, the joy and pain, the history. Even as a child she’d favoured a cemetery over a park … often wandering for hours amongst the gravestones, looking for the oldest one she could find, a challenge her mother had set for her on her first visit to England at the age of 10.

She had been quite introverted and thoughtful back then, a sombre child, socially awkward and shy, preferring her own company, and that of her dogs over others. Not the bright, sparkly personality others saw her as now. It was quite normal for her to be found exploring the local graveyard, always a faithful pup by her side, talking to the dead as she read each epitaph imagining how that person lived, what they dreamed about and how they died. Were they a good person? Did they deserve her musings? Where were they now, if anywhere at all? Were they anchored to their grave, their place of resting or had they moved on to a better existence or perhaps a worse one?

Old things had always fascinated her … walking through old houses … historic villages … churchyards … castles … all of it thrilled her. She could almost catch the whispers of time on the breeze, feel the heartbeat of that history in the stones and cobbles … reverberating through the air, glimpses of memories and dreams gone now, long and distant. The secrets, the lies, the truths and perhaps webs of deceit of those who had walked this path long before her.

She often wondered how many secrets had actually been taken to the grave. Or were they broken free upon death to cause havoc and heartache amongst the living. So many untold stories, dramas and liaisons, hints and evidence found amongst the detritus of belongings one left behind. Perhaps that evidence providing answers that made past dalliances or misbehaviours obvious, perhaps leaving a mystery never to be solved. Memories and answers locked away forever behind unknown passwords and secure login codes.

Ironically given her fascination to graveyards, her place of rest would not be in one. Although she couldn’t guarantee it, her wishes upon death were for her body to be carbonised, her remains to be used so she could be forevermore a diamond, or perhaps two …. a family heirloom to be passed down through the generations. To be forever bold, bright and sparkly in death as she was in life. Her secrets locked away for all eternity, glistening perhaps, just beneath the surface.