Buying Graveyard Dirt

Friday, April 22, 2011

**In the following, I will share my experience buying graveyard dirt from a very close relative, my Nan.  Due to the personal nature of this experience and my intentions, I will leave some details out.  I am sure everyone will understand.

If you are unfamiliar with the concept of buying graveyard dirt, please see THIS in Lucky Mojo Curio.

Today, after class, I visited Keeton Cemetery, where most of my maternal family has been buried since the late 1800s.  I haven't visited in four years, since my Nan's funeral.  The cemetery is set in a clearing ontop of a tall hill.  My Nan's grave is located in the older part of of the cemetery, next to headstones that are simply old stones.  I am not sure why she is located there, away from the rest of our recently deceased relatives.

I slowly made my way to my Nan's grave, a little bit nervous, actually, feeling guilty about not having visited in the whole four years, and knowing *my* Nan.  See everyone should have someone in their life like my Nan.  She is not what you think of the stereotypical grandmother being, but she *is* what I think every grandmother should be. My Nan is a firecracker.  She is loud, boisterous, and always honest.  She always tells you the truth, even if you don't ask, and especially if you don't want to hear it.  She is everyone's Nan.  And half the time you aren't sure if she even likes you, but Heaven help the soul that ever hurts one of "hers."

Once I made it there, I sat down, right in the middle.  I just sat there, listening.  After a while, I was sure that she knew I was there, and that she knew why, as she always seemed to when I came to her when she was living.   I just sat there and talked to her, like I use to.  Eventually, I got around to explaining why I was there, and what I wanted to ask of her.  I got the distinct feeling that she was saying, "You better be glad you came to me for this."  Typical Nan.

"Traditional" payment for graveyard dirt is usually silver dimes.  Instead, my payment was a silver cross and a turquoise stone, two things that were very special to her in life.  For libation, I brought Dasani water.  My Nan was a recovering alcoholic, who replaced her alcohol addiction with a Dasani addiction.  Only Dasani water, she would drink nothing else.

I dug a small plug and removed it.  Then, I removed about two small handfulls of dirt and placed them in a small glass jar with a lid.  I placed the cross and stone in the hole, and covered them with the plug.  I poured out the libation onto the grave and then I laid down there and just visited.  I stayed there, at the grave, for a long time, until I felt it was time to bring her home.

And then I realized that I had locked my keys and phone in my car.... seriously... not cool.  I had to walk to some strangers house to call for help.  But all is well. :)

Currently, I am allowing the dirt to dry.  Well, as dry as clay gets. :P  But, after that, a portion will be placed on my ancestoral altar, and a portion will be saved for other uses


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