Mountain View's annual celebration and commemoration
October 29, 2005
Acoustic music, candles, fire, flowers, food, and poetry were all part of this unique, contemplative, evening held on October 29, 2005.
For more information contact the cemetery office at 604.325.2646
Paula Jardine, artist in residence. More about Paula
Support for the 2005 event was provided by
"As my friend and I walked around we felt very privileged to be a part of something so soul comforting. There were many special moments for many people who attended."
Many thoughtful comments have been received from those that attended the first All Souls event, we'd like to share some of them.
If you have a story or photograph you'd like to share of the evening please e-mail the cemetery.
The Morning After: I went out to the cemetary this morning... a family, a man with two young girls, was at the main shrine and they were curious about what had been going on. His little daughter was buried near by. He seemed happy to know that something [more] was being made of Halloween than the usual.
I just wanted to tell you that the event on Saturday was really wonderful, so well put together and a very special, unique way for people to express their grief, sadness and hope all at the same time. As my friend and I walked around we felt very priviledged to be a part of something so soul comforting. There were many special moments for many people who attended.
It was a beautiful evening. The tone was just right and approaching the center of the cemetery from Fraser St. with the candles on both sides was lovely.
It was a really beautiful evening. It was so nice to see the receptiveness of community to the creation of a new ritual. Especially a ritual around death. There is a responsive need for community to come together to share grief and loss and find paths to celebrating the richness of life anew. Thank you & thanks to Mountain View for a great beginning of a "marvellous thing". I hope it continues.
...I thought I had some idea of the plan, but what I saw in place at the gates, along the paths, and particularly at the intersections of the Masonic area knocked me over. The creative energy that made itself visible that night was beyond expectations! And the cumulative result was extremely moving. Congratulations first and foremost to you and your dedicated team of public artists!! I was happy to contribute my little bit but it couldn't have happened without the vision and dedication of those who put in the long hours before and during the event.
Yes, the Night for All Souls was a beautiful event happily held on a beautiful fall evening at Mountain View Cemetery. We were very moved by the experience, seeing people giving witness to their heritage, to those who have gone before them in a respectful and personal manner. I was also impressed to see parents bringing their children. The elements you and the participants prepared were wonderful to see and touch.The music was touching. Congratulations to you and Glen for this wonderful event that was created out of considerable dedication. It has a future at MVC.
All Souls was wonderful and moving. I made a lantern for my friend who is dying which was wrenching to place and see it in that context. I did one for my grandparents too and what was most interesting about that was, that although I see their wedding photo how many times a day, putting it on a lantern and placing it gave it some power. It did make me think about them differently, who they were and why they were so important to me. And it was really interesting to see other people, strangers, looking at them and commenting, wondering who they were and just getting it. It was very special. And very beautiful. I was glad that it was easy to step away from the light and the people into private space to cry.
That day we met and worked from the warmest light the sun could have offered us, to the dusk, I recall looking up to the sky and seeing the clouds as pink as heaven sent as they could be. And then the dusk, when the unknown entered. Everyone needs to be in the dark where the only guides are the palest glimmerings of lights along the path. Where we could cross paths with others who were carrying their lanterns with their memories looking for the place to put them down so others could see. The Tibetan book of the dead teaches us about the bardo, the gap between one life and the next. Between One moment of living and the next. The night of all souls gave us a little practice. To all the creators and managers that made that experience so special.
...from the moment I walked through the gates, I was moved to tears with a beautiful feeling of love for the many loved ones that have passed on during my lifetime and prior to as well. The ambience you all created was magical, mystical and very special on so many levels. Thank you so very much for the wonderful opportunity that you so richly created for us to FEEL the glow in our hearts. That feeling was as special l as the glow in the beautiful lanturns strategically placed to give us a visual that assisted us greatly in the search within to remember those we have loved and continue to love today...here and now! What a magical, spiritual, beautiful evening!
It was somber and low key and respectful. People were interested, hesitant, shy,pleased, relieved. We sat in the dark for a long time listening to the violinist playing Celtic music. I remarked to my partner that there's nothing quite like Celtic music for being jaunty yet mournful. Later, we couldn't get enough of the 3 women singing the gorgeous Ukrainian and Eastern European songs. I stood by one of the fire barrels, warming my back, listening. My hair and clothes were covered with ash from the fire by the time I pulled myself away from those mesmerizing strong sad songs. So perfect for female voices. The falling ash seemed just right, too. Grief-rain, I thought.
On one of the shrines, I wrote a note to ancestors, loved ones: Nana, Papa, uncles, aunts. I drew the line at pets. Like everyone, I could have gone on and on. I did go back once, when I realised I'd forgotten Aunt Susie. Mustn't leave out our aunt susies.
We had walked from across the other part of the cemetery, from John Street, carrying the lantern I'd started in one of the workshops a few weeks ago. I had finished it in my kitchen - in a whirl of glue and crepe - an hour earlier. It was in the shape of a kayak. Blue, just like Ian's had been. I wrote that on the shrine too - "Ian I brought your kayak" - startling myself into a rare, real sadness, by addressing him directly. Surprised myself by sitting, sad, awhile. It's strange, to take a moment to rest from always “not being sad”. Dodging, diverting, denying. It had been 4 years, 7months, and 1 day since Ian had decided the world wasn’t for him. I couldn't remember the last time I'd counted. I sat for a long time, being freely tearful in the dark, counting, listing the things he didn't know (weddings, babies, moves, troubles, sicknesses), holding my (his) kayak on my lap.
Three little sprites came up, chattering, zeroing in on me with kitten instincts. Fearless about tears the way adults aren't. She wanted to know how it was made, peering inside my lantern. Some long bendy sticks, paper, and a lot of glue, I said, wiping my eyes. And a candle. She wanted badly to tell me how, a few minutes earlier, she'd blown out a candle, just in time, because her baby brother was putting his face too close.
He's very lucky to have you to look out for him, I said. As if for emphasis, baby brother charged into our light, stopping with a wobble just short of my candle. Not yet 3 would be my guess, and the sprites about 5, maybe. Naturally, happily, I laced up and re-shouldered the grief. Not for their eyes. For the first time I thought that "not being sad" is work, important hard work. And these bright little souls are why we do it. So that they can keep scampering and chattering.
But it's not the sort of work that we can do constantly, endlessly. We need a holiday from the vigilance, the sentry duty. To lay down arms sometimes and share a cup with the other side. That’s what All Souls did for me, and now I feel quiet and rested, and ready to get back to work.
It was a beautiful evening! The atmosphere was calm and serene but happy and I have heard from many of the neighbours that they really thought it was a fabulous event. Congratulations Paula and all the key members of the planning committee!
The things I loved were; the mosiac on the roadway; the burning log in front of the office; the candle lit shrine made out of granite and the burn barrels. They all added to the evening. The Philipine chior also looked very happy to be there and their singing was very nice.
While walking around keeping the candles lit many people stopped to talk to myself and my friend. They told us of there loved ones and how special this evening was to them. I think it was great people were remembering their dogs and even the one shrine to remember the building on Main.
I was walking through the cemetery around 8pm, and I had come in at 31st. Nothing was in that section of the cemetery, but as I walked in the very dark (why had I not realized it would be dark - there are no street lights)I saw candles at the far corner. when I got there, it was a small group, a man two or three women, a child or two. I think the women were Fillipina, hard to tell with the light. The man was white, in his 70's maybe? I didn't want to disturb them, but they smiled at me, and yes, they said, it was a family gathering, but i could stay if I liked. So it did for a while and chatted with them. They told me I would find the celebrations further south, but as their loved ones were here, they thought they would just stay where they were. They seemed so quietly happy. Many candles, flowers, on three gravestones in a row. It was a wonderful beginning to the event.
It was a quiet joy in me, being there, and I thank you for having the idea, and I thank the manager of the cemetery and his staff for being open and available with information. I hope it happens again next year. I say my neighbours there, I saw friends, and I saw the stars overhead and felt very good.
You are probably relax now after all the hard work you've done organizing the event. Congratulations to you and to all the people you closely work with - the event was superb. A lot of people came, there were good music and other entertainments, beautiful lanterns and candles, etc.- it was just lovely. Thank you for inviting our choir. It was an honor to be a part of a successful event. We really had a good time. All the best to you and keep up all the good work you are doing for the community. Drop by when ever you are in town. Take care. Talk to you again.
... the event on Saturday was really wonderful, so well put together and a very special, unique way for people to express their grief, sadness and hope all at the same time. I have been following your articles in the Georgia Straight and was so glad to be able to attend. As my friend and I walked around we felt very priviledged to be a part of something so soul comforting. There were many special moments for many people who attended.
What I was most struck by over the course of the night was the sense of almost instant community. I felt welcomed and supported by everyone who came by and stopped to listen to us play. There seemed to be no pressure on anyone: to stay longer than a few minutes, to applaud at the end of a piece, or to be silent as the music was going on. "Joyful" isn't quite the right word for an event like this, but I would name "contemplative", "peaceful", and "accepting" among the feelings I had from other participants that evening. Many people did approach us between songs to thank us or just to express a few words of appreciation.
Probably the most magical moment of all came for me after Nette and I had packed up our instruments, and just before I came up to see you in the office. We were standing by one of the fire barrels for a last warming of our cold fingers, and decided to sing one last acapella song - "Down to the River to Pray", a Baptist hymn that many people know from "O Brother, Where Art Thou". No sooner had we got through the first verse than three masked and costumed people materialized out of the dark to draw close and listen. By the beginning of the third verse they had joined in, adding harmonies and different voices to this simple little song. Nette and I kept it going for as long as we could think of new verses to add, not wanting the moment to end. It seemed to me to embody the spirit of the event in many ways.
The lights and shrines were beautiful and gave me the feeling of floating through Faerie as we wandered the dark pathways. Everyone was welcoming and always made room for newcomers - then gathered close again to share warmth against the cold night. I saw people laughing and crying, dancing and praying, leaning close to headstones and looking up at the stars.
I lit candles at the family shrine for my Dad and my sister. I wrote a message on the board in memory of my sister, and realized it was the first time since her death that I had written her name. I stood transfixed, looking at it, remembering all the times I had written it in my life...on birthday cards and Christmas gift tags, and on letters when she lived overseas. There was a woman my age standing next to me, staring at the board, lost in her own thoughts. We glanced at each other briefly, and in our vulnerability we shared some sort of unspoken communion. When I left the shrine to wander with the crowds I had the sense that the whole event had been lovingly created as a place for people to gather to be vulnerable together and that everyone was respectful and appreciative of this offering. Thank you so much.
