RCG-I Seasonal Salon Fall Equinox 2008

Over Her Dead Body

My partner and I found this very old cemetery on the outside of Tehachapi last spring. Dates on some of the wooden markers were early 1800’s and the last burials seem to be later in that century. There is no one “in charge” and it doesn’t belong to the county or city Cemetery system. You can walk around the site on your own. Bodies were buried in pine boxes without the standard preservative measures of our modern times. And so, when they decayed, the ground sunk as much as 6”. Walking requires mindfulness to keep one’s balance.

Recently, someone stole several of the old markers from graves. A number of local people decided to take action to preserve this amazing, and quite magickal sacred site. It was impressive to participate in a very action-oriented process that developed a plan to preserve the site through restoration of markers, installing a watering system and introducing a general maintenance procedure.

That night, I adopted one of the graves that has a faery ring in front of it. I walked outside the ring until an opening appeared at the corner of the marker, and I was able to step inside. You could not simply step over the natural line you see in the photo which was not intentionally made by the rocks nor does it appear to be a worn path. So many lovely wildflowers grew there that I imagined whomever was buried beneath was someone quite connected to Mother Earth.

Old records in town list some of the people or families who are buried here. Most graves, like the one I adopted only have a number. Recordkeeping was not a priority back in those pioneering days and so one trusted the information cut or painted on the wooden markers would be sufficient. That was a false assumption. Identities are lost forever.

So why do this? Why adopt a grave?

I have never been much at visiting graves after the funeral was over. It was a big tradition in my family to plant flowers, to visit on birthdays and holidays when I was growing up. We almost had parties going from grave to grave during the holidays, with the elders reminiscing and telling such fascinating stories. I think that in some ways, their storytelling gave them a chance to process either how much they missed that old auntie or how they were, in this way, trying to heal from an unresolved conflict with a brother who died too suddenly. Maybe it was graveside therapy.

My beliefs changed when I acknowledged the spirit or soul left the body after death. Therefore, it suddenly seemed silly to spend time with the shell of a person when I could easily tap into a more psychic connection with them. And life got too busy for old customs.

I was really caught up in thinking about this grave from the first moment I saw it. I kept going back there during the summer to just walk inside the faery ring, sitting on the ground and wondering who was under it. Spring flowers lost their greenery and dried brittle in the hot sun. Something or someone kept calling me back and always to this one gravesite.

Its marker was one of those stolen.

One of the men at the meeting said he could remake those taken and would be willing to make new ones for other unmarked graves. I commissioned the first one for my grave. My grave. What an interesting way to claim this Death Priestessing service.

The new marker will only say, “Unknown”.

I find that I deeply care about whomever is under this spot of land looking out over the mountains and have a sense that the person really lived their life fully and enjoyed this land here in the Tehachapi Valley as much as I do. I am living over her dead body, alive on this land.

I imagine that she looked up in the night sky at the Crescent Moon and saw millions of stars as I do. You cannot help but be touched by this area, by the purity of the air, the clarity of the skies and ability to see to the ends of the Earth or at least to the mountain tops surrounding the valley. Winds pick up and blow while standing on this hill and you feel caressed by the warmth of the ground after a hot day in the sun. Vibrant colors make you feel so alive and the peace of it all is unbelievable.

The old pioneers picked a wonderful place for a final resting for their children, parents and friends. This is sacred ground. Sanctuary. It is the real place between the worlds we talk about and only sense when we do our rituals. I imagine that they took comfort in burying someone here just because they believed that their spirits could see the mountains, could feel the air, could watch the sunset and the moonrise amidst the stars.

Grave Tending is an actual occupation. Most cemeteries will generally cut grass and water it, but do not provide individual services for each gravesite. That is left to family and friends. Most cemeteries have rules regarding cut flowers or live plants. When family members either cannot tend the graves because of failing health, lack of time, or perhaps moving from the area, they can hire a service or individual to do regular upkeep on the gravesite. These professional Grave Tenders are paid for watering, seasonal raking, trimming, and headstone cleaning. They will take photos of their work and send it to the family or friend.