This book is about how we relate to our loved ones after they have died.
To everything there is a season, a time to every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die: a time to sow, and a time to reap.
A time to weep, a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.
Since the time of Herodotus, how we care for the dead has been regarded
as the surest sign of civilisation, for they are still members of our families, as social beings, worthy of respect and honour. To be loved and celebrated as
Part of the fabric of family life, continuing to dwell in us, individually and communally. The Dead matter because we cannot bear to give them up.
Nabakov says, “Our existence is but a brief crack of light between two extremities of darkness.” It is in this light that we make sense of human relationships. The immeasurable weight of death – its cultural gravitas – bears down on the corpse and connects its materiality to the cosmic drama that transcends particular beliefs about the afterlife and journeys of the soul.
The homes of the Dead, (their graves or tombs) speak directly to the needs of Memory — forever in our hearts and minds.
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