AND I WILL HEAR, THOUGH SOFT, YOUR TREAD ABOVE ME

But when ye come, and all the flowers dying,

And I am dead, as dead I well may be,

Go out and find the place where I am lying,

And kneel and say an Ave there for me.

And I will hear, though soft your tread above me,

And so my grave will warmer, sweeter be,

For you will bend and tell me that you love me,

And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

It’s a mistake of course, but one we all sometimes make, to imagine that others will think as we ourselves do.  On the subject of what happens to us when we die, for example, I’m quite sure there will be strongly divided opinion.  ‘Throw me in a ditch, I’m dead’.  ‘Place me in the family vault with my ancestors’.  ‘Hand me over to those people who wear red suits and lie in baths having wistful imaginings of being burnt to a crisp in a corporate oven for the benefit of its fat cat directors so that my family can have a few weeks grocery savings’.  ‘Find a lovely field or wood somewhere and bury me where only you know where I am and where I can have a bit of peace to fade away in my own time’.

In the safe and certain knowledge that I will have lost a fairly significant proportion of my readers at this point (and congratulations to all you vault owners out there) you will see where this might be going.  I’m liking the field option.  Here then are my own very personal views as to what I would like to happen to my particular carcass once it ceases to operate.

My dad was a farmer (dad’s eulogy) and so, even though I did not become one myself, I have a natural affinity with the land and the farming community in general.  It’s only quite recently that I started giving this death business some serious thought and became aware of the growing numbers of ‘woodland’ burial grounds scattered around the country.  That would seem to be a generic name for one that happily beaks away from the notion that we of burying inclination should all end up in some traditional cemetery which is to say the most depressing environment imaginable.   Whilst what I have to say here is something rather different I would nonetheless urge any of my remaining readers here to have a good look at these in context as the thinking is quite closely aligned.  Not entirely I should say but quite.

So what would be my own personal criteria here?  There are perhaps only three or four things that I personally would think of as being of fundamental importance.  Obviously the question arises as to where this should be.  Future access arrangements for my tribe is going to figure as well as provision for any of that tribe or their non-human friends for that matter to maybe join me in the future.  Finally there’s the question of markings, monuments or remembrances of any sort.  I shall have a look now at each of these in turn. 

The venue

I have lived in various places in this country over my life and each one will naturally hold memories for me.  Is any one of them more memorable than any other, however, and would it be so important to me to choose any particular one over another?  The place I was born maybe, or the place where I spent my final days?  Maybe, maybe not.  For my part at least I think the most important thing would be to find somewhere that felt like it was happy enough just to be there and wasn’t too worried about what was going on in the world around.  Somewhere, anywhere really, that was both quiet and beautiful and where I could be confident that I wouldn’t be disturbed for as long as anyone who ever knew me is no longer here.  Resting in peace in privacy and away from any ghostly chatterings of random others also no longer.  Given that at last count there are over 21 million acres of utilised agricultural land in England and that 10% of the country is woodland I can’t see that there would be any great problem in finding somewhere suitable if anyone were prepared to look. 

Access and others to follow

This is something of a moot point I’d say.  At first glance one would naturally assume that ongoing, future access for one’s nearest and dearest is of fundamental importance.  In reality, however, what are we really talking about?  How often and for how long would this access be used?  Is it really so important to be there by the graveside.  To some of us maybe but to others perhaps it would suffice, or be better even, if we could simply visit the location wherever it may be and view from afar.  Remembering that this is not so much about the physical grave itself but more about the location for its own sake and just having some everlasting connection with that place of beauty.  Think not of my bones but only of this piece of England (or Wales as the case may be).  A drive-by and wave to the spot in question I think would do nicely for me anyway.  To the casual observer that photo that we keep in our living room may just look like a lovely bit of countryside scenery or it may have a rather deeper meaning. 

As I say there is likely to be a diverse set of opinions on this.  That said it would appear that I am not entirely alone with my thinking given the following comment made in the Law Commission’s Burial and Cremation Consultation Paper 263:  “Some research with a small sample suggests, however, that private land burial is used out of “a desire to control the funeral; posterity can take care of itself”.  In any event I shall consider the opposing view under Monuments and Remembrances below.

Future access to these burial rights per se, however, is I think a much more significant matter.  Should any of my loved ones and, if they wish, their non-human companions think to spend some more extended period of time with me at a future date then I would count that a privilege and take some great pleasure from it. 

Monuments and remembrances

I opined above that I personally would not see any great relevance in having some monument to mark my spot as it were.  To some extent I think that makes it all a rather more maudlin affair.  I’m gone from the earth and whilst it will be some time before that process more or less completes I’m not so sure that sitting around immediately above that specific bit of territory is the best way of dealing with things.  ‘Over there, up on that hillside’, ‘under that old oak tree’ or ‘in that bit of woodland over yonder’ is more closely aligned with my personal way of thinking.  There will be others, however, who may well take a different view and I would fully expect that to be the case.

Remembering that if this isn’t necessarily going to be a bit of woodland and it could just as easily be an open pasture the farmer naturally isn’t going to want any headstones or whatever getting in his way.  Different with the woodland maybe but certainly not out in the open.  A personal bench under the hedge, however, would be a distinct possibility for those who might place some value on that.  A marker on the gate or perhaps a tree somewhere by agreement?  All things within reason would be possible I’m sure.

So there we have it.  One man’s view on eternity, such as it is.  Were I to look to describe it in its essence I would simply say a very ‘private’ burial.