Visiting Cemeteries: Why do we go?

                  Some people do not visit cemeteries. Some people do. There is no right or wrong in this matter. It is, in my opinion, a personal choice to visit or not to visit! The bodies or remains of our family members and friends are interred or inurned in cemeteries where they rest in peace as they await the final day of God’s judgement. We know they suffer no more – we know they are at peace. But for me, visiting graves in a cemetery brings me a personal peace. I find the visit a time for prayer and reflection. Some people might find it morbid, but speaking for myself, I find it to be comforting and a reminder that we will all one day be brought to our final resting place when God calls us to give an account of our earthly lives. The task of every day is to be ready for that event by the way we live each moment of each day – for God and for others as modeled for us by Jesus Christ.

                  Very often on a free afternoon, I make my way to a local cemetery (usually with Msgr. Kevin Noone or other priests) like St. John in Middle Village, Mount Saint Mary in Flushing, Calvary in Woodside, or Flushing Cemetery in Flushing, all in Queens County. I do visit other cemeteries but not as often as the ones listed here, because of their nearly locations but mostly because my family and many of my friends are buried in these local cemeteries.

                  St. John Cemetery is my most frequented cemetery. My parents, Vera and Louis Chappetto, and two of my brothers, Charlie and Tom, are in the family plot where I hope to be buried as well. There is also room in the same grave for my youngest brother, Richie, and his wife, Carol-Ann. At the grave, I not only have the opportunity to remember my parents and brothers in prayer but also to silently recall all they did to assist me in my vocation and all the good memories I have of our family life. I have an older sister buried in Flushing Cemetery, and was able to place a marker on the grave where she was laid to rest with many other children who died at birth or shortly after birth. The marker reads “In Loving Memory of all the Babies Buried Here.” Although I never met her, I know where she was buried and honor that place with reverence and respect.

                  I have grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins buried in both St. John Cemetery and Calvary Cemetery. I get to recall them when I go to their graves. I remember our relationships and our conversations and recall how blessed I am because they were part of my life. I recently began the custom (which I learned from Msgr. Noone) of bringing a wreath at Christmas and placing it on the graves of family members, and I find that custom to be a way of recalling past Christmases and our family gatherings. We miss their presence here with us.

                  Recently, I came across a beautiful painting entitled “When We Meet in Heaven.” It’s a beautiful picture of people walking together, embracing, and reuniting. Until that day comes, I’ll take whatever comfort I can get for my cemetery visits. It’s not for everyone, but I do it for me.