I was in Haiti earlier this month, the first time since I buried my mother 8 years ago. Though other matters brought me to Haiti, I was resolute that I would visit the tombs of my Mother/Grandmother and my Paternal Grandfather. For those of you who have been to New Orleans or other Caribbean countries, you are familiar with the labyrinth that above ground cemeteries can be. The Central Cemetery of Port-au-Prince is partially damaged by the earthquake. Its been 22 years since my Grandfathers passing, but my first time looking his tomb. I vowed I would not leave Haiti again without visiting him as I have times before. The burial boys that work in the cemeteries try to help you, walking you to and fro, hoping you will pay them for their efforts or to clean off/repair the tomb. But I shut them out as best I could, asking for the spirits to guide me and help me. It took about an hour but we found my grandfathers tomb, not far from where I initially told them I believe it to be. The next day was a bumpy 8-hour bus ride to Port-de Paix. I had vivid memories of my Grandmothers tomb; I would visit it often as a child. Now my mother shares the same resting place. Still, it took me about 15 minutes to find. It had been repainted and the headstone is missing but I know it was the one. A few days later my boyfriend remarked that on both occasions he could hear a woman singing, the voice getting louder as we got closer to the right tomb. I heard it too but was too busy read names to look for where it might be coming from. Did you see her? I asked. Neither of us recall seeing the singer. Was she really there? I pondered aloud. We are both confident that the voice and the song were the same in both cemeteries, miles away and days apart. We are never far from our ancestors, no matter where we roam, no matter when they transition. They are close by, leading us, singing a song. Just listen!
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 15:43:31 +0000
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