I want to give some context here so as to not appear nor sound gruesome. I got sober in 1985 at age 23. This meant that I had access to many casual acquaintances & friends in many 12 Step Group meetings.
AIDS was in full “swing” at that time. People died from my first meeting in 1985, until about 1997. That’s when it slowed down. In most cases, the person died in 6 months or less.
It was impossible to try and “process” this terror & grief that we all felt. There were no support systems yet in place. We just kind of held each other up, and those of us that weren’t sick, took care of those that were dying.
In most cases, when someone died (at home, a hospital, or where they were from), there was no service, no funeral. They were just gone, and we got no closure.
In the beginning, we held memorial services, but even that was too much. At least 4–5 people people per week were sick or in hospital & died.
During this time, my young 20 something mind thought “Dead people are in cemeteries. That’s where dead people end up. Cemeteries were quiet, peaceful, and usually well maintained. Flowers, beautiful luscious green blades of grass everywhere, not lovely trees were all around.
I would go, find a spot, sit down on the grass (usually under a tree) and just cry and cry and cry. This helped normalize cemeteries.
Over the years, as I stayed sober and continued my journey, a good portion of which was/is spiritual in nature, I continued from time to time to go to cemeteries to pray & meditate.
Let me make a point: I don’t go every Sunday for brunch or anything, I have just gone from time to time. At some point, I started paying attention to the names, and then realized that based upon when someone lived, different names of those times were used.
