Where do you want to be buried?

Today I’ve encountered two examples of people’s final burial spots. These are chosen places, decided by the living to be connected in some way to a great idea. The first instance was an article in the Financial Times about a ski resort which has newly been segmented the mountain into a private and public ski areas. The article interviews an individual whose friend’s ashes were scattered on the now private ski area. The friend had spent many seasons there, and he had grown a deep attachment to the mountain. The second instance was in the novel Buddenbrooks by Thomas Mann, where the patriarch of the wealthy aristocratic Buddenbrook family is buried in their family burial grounds. He was buried next to generations of Buddenbrooks and will continue to be joined by his continuing family lineage. Both of these places have enormous sentimental meanings that describe the lives of these two men.

After having these bouncing around in my head, I am now questioning: Where will I be buried? As a young 25-year-old, it’s not something I’ve put much thought to. I have not written a will or chosen someone to take care of my affairs in the event of my passing. Why would I? But there is a notable statement being made by making this decision.

My grandad was ashes lay along the route for the Comrades marathon, a gruelling ultra-marathon that is a cultural staple of Kwa-Zulu Natal. He has done running for most of his life and the Comrades is considered a pinnacle achievement of the sport in South Africa. This was a meaningful place to be placed at the very end. I don’t think I have such a place. My roots have been sporadic over my life. I spent my earliest years in various parts of the city of Durban, never feeling settled in any piece. Having lived in Cape Town the last 6 years, the place still feels foreign to me and I would never attempt to describe myself as a Cape Townian. I am now based between Scotland and Switzerland without a permanent connection to either. If I’ve never found roots in any given place, how could I decide to leave my body and soul for eternity? Even in an atheistic perspective, my family and friends will always associate that place with me.

Maybe, the location does not matter for the deceased. If my body was buried under the parking for a supermarket, my family and friends would always attach meaning to that bit of asphalt. But it does seem a tad disrespectful to force someone to spend eternity under a big Tesco.

I don’t think I’m particularly worried about not having a perfect burial spot in mind. It would be quite morbid to be worried. Though it is interesting when these places come to you. You can pick your final place of rest like the skier or be assigned it like Herr Buddenbrook. Does it eventually find you? Does it get thrust onto you, by either your life experience or those who you left behind? I guess I can just wait and see. I do hope that I find out beforehand though.