I like cemeteries.
I like to walk amidst the graves and calculate the ages at which the buried died. I like to read the epitaphs: poems, bible verses, and sometimes prose that family and friends write in honor of the dead. I like the quiet: the rustle of dry leaves underfoot, the sound of birds singing, the distant look of a mourner who has come to honor the memory of a relative long dead.
I cry. I always cry when I visit a cemetery, or attend a funeral.
Sometimes I cry quietly. At other times, I wail noisily. I leave sad. I always leave sad. But I leave more grateful for my life, for my friends and family, and for the opportunities I have.
Yesterday, I attended the funeral of Sanmi Awodogan, a young and promising man who lost his life in the Dana air crash. As always, I spent an hour walking round the graves - lost in thought. I will now share those thoughts with you:
