Graveside Stones

Today my extended family met up at the cemetery, around my Grandpa's newly placed headstone. I bought a bag of rocks, so did my Dad, so did my Auntie Marian. 

It's one of the Jewish traditions that resonates lots with me. My Dad read something prepared by the Rabbi who spoke at my Grandpa's funeral. I loved what he wrote, and wanted to keep it here:

It is customary for Jews to place a stone by the graveside of one they respect and love. Some say that this is just a marker to commemorate the visit. Some say that it is to weigh down the spirits of grief that haunt us, anchoring our pain so that we do not dismiss our destiny and walk the path of a mourner forever. 

I like to believe that the stone has more to do with "foundation", the first brick laid in building a future that at one time seemed inconceivable: a future where he is not at the table--at our side, a phone call away--a world without his radiance.

That future once seemed inconceivable but here we are and these stones say--today we build a new future; a future where our spirits are clothed in his love, our hearts are branded with his goodness, a future in which he is woven into us, wrapped around us lighting our way where we know that every joy we encounter is celebrated from on high as well. 

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