Today, the first of November, lots of people hereabouts go to the churchyard to visit the grave(s) of their deceased. It's a tradition that goes back more than 200 years.
So how do you remember your dead? Do you think it helps seeing their graves and spending some time praying?
Personally, I'm not much of a graveyard-goer. My father is buried in one, and so are my grandfather and grandmother. In those days, you did not have another option. But my mother's ashes are buried in our backyard, next to the remains of her cat Minouche and her bird Pietje. That was her wish, and we were glad we could grant it.
My sister and I remember those who are no longer frequently. They are in our minds, in the stories we tell, even in our dreams. More than once a week I dream about my father, my mother, the grandparents. When we think back of previous days, we mention them fondly. I think that is more than just going to a churchyard to put flowers on a tombstone. 'Seen and be seen' is for a lot of people they only goal.