Thirteen years ago, wandering in a cemetery on Prince Edward Island, Canada, I came across the small headstone of a child with the epitaph, “Step softly, here lies a dream.” It’s hard to fathom how that experience triggered a 200+ page book so many years later.
Did you ever look back and wonder how one thing led to another-- how many small experiences were woven around the big ones to form the pattern of your life? Why, at that time, did that particular cemetery trigger a fascination that would become such a large part of my life?
During my childhood and young adult life, cemeteries were uncomfortable places for me.
Much later, when my daughter was grieving the death of her beloved friend from suicide, I saw a different side of the graveyard. It was, for her, a welcoming place to say goodbye; a place to remember some of the good times; and most importantly, to be with Jenny once again.
Lives can be changed in an instant and dreams are shattered and destroyed. Grief is exquisitely painful. But as I experienced with my daughter, there is a sense of peace and serenity in most cemeteries which allows the miracle of someone’s life to be celebrated and start to heal the grief and loss.
That may have prompted one part of my reaction to the lamb and the dream. What led to the rest of the odyssey, I’m not sure. I’ve explored over 200 cemeteries since then and have found long lost relatives, extraordinary works of art, beautiful parks, sadly neglected pockets of forgotten lives, wonderful “history books “ written in stone. I see people of all ages strolling on the paths—some, perhaps, reframing the dream, finding new options and a new directions