This past weekend, I was back in Atlanta leading cemetery tours at Capturing the Spirit of Oakland.
This nighttime event introduces guests to seven cemetery residents who share their life stories. As a guide, I usher groups from stop to stop and provide a short introduction and a closing statement. The tour ends by discussing three phases of death recognized in Mexican culture:
First death: our body physical expires.
Second death: our remains are laid to rest.
Third and final death: the last time someone says our name.
When I speak about the third and final death, a silence usually falls over my tour group. I assume people are asking themselves these questions:
What is my legacy? How long will I be remembered?
Interesting question. For me it depends on the part of my life, things can change so much overtime.
Always wanted to do that tour. My "dead" people are with me more than many of the living are -- the memories carry more of a charge *because* they are no longer existent in bodies we're accustomed to recognizing. Feels like one of our more important tasks is to reach for the seemingly dead, since for whatever reason they are less able to reach for us, at least in the ways they once did.