Graveyard Gatherings

Gillian

My friend Gillian and I met at our job last year. Like most of my long lasting friendships, we bonded over our mutual love of horror films and cemeteries. Her presence alone made the work day instantly positive and immeasurably fun. Work always went by in a flash, and getting paid to fast forward through time seemed deliciously illegal. We didn’t always have shifts together, but when we did it was the absolute best of times. In between shelving books, the two of us were like two book carts passing in the night. Always brief, but enthusiastic, discussing the latest slasher flicks in between.

If I could describe her, I’d say she is very intuitive, especially when it comes to bringing people together. Ever since last year, she’s been working on a carefully curated list of ladies to bring together into a group. Part book club, part women's support group, part film discussion, part a lot of things. Finally, two weeks ago her dreams finally came to fruition.

Gillian wanted to ensure that all of us would get along, and that our collective energies would vibe well to together. Just between you and I, it was flattering to be one of the “chosen ones”. When she asked me if I wanted in, I thought, “this must be how it feels when asked to join The Midnight Society”. If I’m being honest, I was afraid that I would feel out place. Even though these people had all of my interests in common, it’s always a bit intimidating. To my surprise, it wasn’t.

Early Bird Gets the Worm Bookmark

A few Sundays ago the six of us met at a gorgeous cemetery with tombstones dating as early as the 1800s. The entire week leading up to that day was so unbelievably stressful, resulting in a very anxious me. It was a bright and warm Sunday afternoon, so I decided to arrive a little early. In times of stress I usually visit my grandparents' plots in the mausoleum where they rest, so that’s what I did. Talking to them helps, or even being near them never fails to give me a sense of calm. My jitters faded away, and so I set off towards the meeting spot.

Photo credit: Taken by me several months after receiving it.

Sitting in the chapel parking lot, in her idling car was Gillian. She looked over at me with such enthusiasm that I couldn’t help but forget why I was worried at all. I think she was anxious too. Likely over the fact that the meeting was finally happening, but perhaps also in part that she was nervous about the success of this newly founded club.

While waiting on the arrival of all the other attendees, she told me she made bookmarks for every single one of us. Each individual bookmark had an essence to them that fit the whole mood of the club. There were Victorian photos of solemn couples, owls, or images of antique items printed on cardstock. Each bookmark was hole punched with a colorful, complimentary velvet ribbon.. While I was looking through them with my indecisive brain, Gillian said “One of the best parts of being the first to show up is that you get the privilege of first choice”. As I was filing through all of them, another car showed up. Internally panicked by my own indecision, I chose an owl.

We Are the Weirdoes, Mister

The second to arrive was a really wonderful person named Alice. Right off the bat she introduced herself, shook my hand, and offered Gillian and I bottles of water. She had such a maternal energy about her, and I was in awe that she was worried about our hydration levels the moment her foot stepped onto the hot parking lot asphalt. Gillian eagerly handed Alice the bookmarks and proudly proclaimed, “I made bookmarks! Choose one”! Meanwhile, I didn’t know what to do with myself. After awkwardly standing there, I chugged half of my bottled water and noisily shoved the half empty bottle into my pants pocket. (Side note: Can we take a moment to celebrate a win in women’s apparel because I found a pair of pants that I can comfortably fit an entire bottle of water into?!)

Soon after, more ladies slowly trickled in. Every one of them being kind, beautiful souls. Each of us were so unique and idiosyncratic in our own ways, yet all of us meshed effortlessly well together. Majority of us weren’t even familiar with one another…strangely though, we all were connected somehow in mysterious ways.

One of the most crucial parts of this first meeting was to bring items as an offering to leave on the grave sites that spoke to us. Some of us brought coins, others brought flowers, but two of the women brought items from the exact same obscure beach in the south. We were all amazed, and not a soul believed it to be a coincidence. Others found that they were connected through mutual friends, had the same zodiac signs, or happened to frequent the same lesser known places often.

A Glimpse Into the Future

Thoughtfully placed at the entrance of this particular cemetery is a lending library for those who want to leave a book or borrow one. Everyone except myself and one other brought a book that they thought could help heal the heart of someone in need. One book in particular was a collection of Calvin and Hobbes comics. Willow, one of the attendees had brought it. She said it was in case someone needed the nostalgic comforts of a boy and his tiger friend. It was incredibly thoughtful. I only had true crime books at hand, and thought it was best I came empty handed. The group said “well maybe that’s a distraction someone might need”. It was such a kind thing to say.

While we were discussing the other books that were brought, an elderly lady drove up and spoke to us. She was so soft spoken that none of us could hear a word she was saying, so everyone kindly smiled and nodded to the words that found themselves lost in the wind. I think all of us were a little on edge that she was going to judge us for gathering in a resting place for the dead.

Something compelled me to walk over to her car so I could properly listen. It turns out, she loved that we were spending time in the cemetery because she herself comes regularly. She told us that she visits her mother and other deceased loved ones every Sunday. The more I observed her, the more I realized she was as wonderfully quirky as we were. Her hands were frail, but her nails were just as vibrant as her spirit. They even matched the neon orange accessories she wore. She finally asked if we were classmates. A flattering question since all of us vary in age but all look like we’re in our early 20s. To spare all of us from a long winded explanation, I simply said we were. She said it was nice to see classmates still remain friends after high school. After our brief, but friendly interaction she drove away leaving the six of us in awe from her kindness.

Until Next Time..

Many other wonderful things came from this first amazing meet up, but if I kept writing this would simply become a novella. Life has been chaotic on my end, thus I haven’t seen them since. I know I will in the near future, and am enthusiastically counting down the days until then. I am certain I will have more anecdotes when that day comes.

Talk soon.

Keisha