spur

More like death is trailing me...

It's been an interesting week and a bit with four trips to emergency to get ear wicks installed and IV antibiotics injected.  Who knew that an ear infection (albeit a middle AND outer one) could swell up the side of my head and make my left ear stick out a la Mickey Mouse.

This has me thinking about mortality in a serious way.  All of the graves that can be found archaeologically, and most graves that are found historically, are in time periods where microbes had an advantage that often caused death from what we would deem innocuous infections these days. 



Grandma Ham 100years old!

My friend just related a story today about her mother who was a resident microbiologist at the Royal Jubilee Hospital here in Victoria.  In order to hook her audiences in teaching sessions she would use photographs of gravestones of children and infants from the 'Old Burying Ground'---the cemetery on Quadra Street downtown---as folks seemed to always have an emotional reaction to seeing the memorials of those whose lives had been cut short.  It seemed a poignant reminder that the dead are indeed powerful and that they can inform us about our lives and world.

The other reason for mortality to be on my mind is having spoken to my grandmother today---she's turning 101 years old on March 12th.  We've been speaking more lately about what we think happens to us when we die and what that means for how we live life.  She's a feisty role model for me in so many ways!  I found a bit of paper the other day from a home-made divination tool (a la Angel Cards) that a friend of mine made for me.  She died after a long and arduous battle with cancer a year and a half ago and I miss her.  "It is not death that is our enemy, it is our fear of it that haunts us" Sonya Kazyss.

Something about turning forty this year that has brought focus to my mortality.  Or, perhaps, it has just as much to do with having people within my sphere dying right left and centre.

Not so much humour here today....next time I'll write about the 'family' cemetery that I'd love to explore more....oh, and a picture of my dad with ready-made gravestone!

The Stuff of Death

Natural disasters abound in the news in the last few years.  Perhaps it’s just that there is so much media saturation and nothing sells like Mother Nature on a rampage. 

That aside, I’ve been thinking about natural disasters and death contexts lately...brought on by this archaeology of death course and puzzling weather: snow storms last week with lots of beautiful snow and a strangely powerful thunderstorm last night. 

How death fits in with this is that I’ve been wondering what an archaeologist at some future time would think about my life and death if my house was freakishly preserved intact.  What stories would they come up with in terms of status and identity? 

The picture my life would paint would certainly have some mysteries.  Two female skeletons side by side, one on its back and one on its side, one feline skeleton near the heads of the human remains and one near the feet.  There would be evidence of medical care in the healed orbital fractures of the skeleton on its back.  Evidence of offerings would also abound:

• strange plastic balls with bells inside;
• an odd-shaped (ritual?) basin;

Ceremonial basin?

Gateway to the Afterlife?

•  a wire and cloth ceremonial tube perhaps symbolizing the gateway to the afterlife;

• alms to the bird-gods of spirit with coins on display inside 

Alms for the Afterlife?

Seems to me that the material culture of any society can be infinitely misinterpreted without having the social context to make sense of it. 

Sure glad that no-one needs to interpret my material world just yet!

Why 'Trailing Death'?

My name is beth and I am super new at blogging (think: I don't even have a cell phone!) so I apologise in advance for any breaches of blog etiquette.

I have been working at my Anthropology undergrad degree for the last six years as a 'mature' student...I started when I was 34 (I'll let you do the math).  Perhaps getting to be mid-life means that death will become a nearer neighbour. Two years ago, over a one year period, five people in my life died.  Only one of them was a close friend but it had an impact nonetheless.  It is interesting that I can intellectually understand that death is a part of the circle of life and that my North American culture deals with death poorly but still get caught up in shock and dismay at its presence in my life.  Since then I have been trailing what death means to me and how to respond to it (like what to say to my 100 year old Grandma who asks: 'what do you think happens to us when we die?').

Weeble the wonder cat

That I have never seen a naturally dead body (ie unembalmed) except of my poor sweet cat Weeble, is a fact that I find abhorrent.  Gosh, I'm finding the need to qualify to the Universe that I don't REALLY want to see a naturally dead body any time soon!  I am fortunate to have the opportunity to explore what death means through an Archaeology of Death class right now and am excited to see the myriad ways people have dealt with this inevitable part of life.

I can't promise wit or humour in this blog but am hoping for thoughtfulness and poignancy.

Thanks so much for sharing in my leap into the blogging world!

beth =)