Boot Hill
Tracy Lee • March 26, 2020
When I was a teenager, my brother and sister would watch their favorite movies on our new video machine. Some of them were their particular favorites, and they would watch them over and over again. One of those particular favorites was "The Time Machine." My sister would ask me, “If I could travel back in time, where would I go?” I never gave it much thought as I figured time travel was a fable and not much else. Today proved my teenage mind wrong and I was thrown back in time as I had never been before. The days of Wyatt Erp and Buffalo Bill are long gone, but this weekend I traveled back to the customs of their time, and experienced a true "Wild West" funeral at an isolated and private boot hill cemetery. Boot Hill cemeteries were thusly named because most of their occupants died while wearing their boots, usually in a gunfight or some other activity. Interestingly, this decedent's death was not far from following this tradition.
The surviving family lives so far back in the Texas woods that we were unable to travel in our vehicles. Once we reached a certain location, we and the decedent, vacated our vehicles and were transported over the dangerously narrow logging roads and hidden treacherous trails by the surviving family. When we came upon a small clearing, I immediately saw that it was an old western style "Boot Hill Cemetery." The previous graves were covered with piles of gathered rocks and marked with hand carved stones. I asked about those previously buried; they were, of course, family members who had passed in previous ages, a few of them war veterans.
The family provided their own casket, six-sided and fashioned out of 200-year-old wood from a cabin on their old home place. The same wood that had been used for the decedent’s father’s casket, his grandfather’s casket, and even his great grandfather’s casket. The handles were made from well-used rope that had served its purpose over the years and was now ready to retire. They had hand dug the grave, and it had large timbers running across it to hold the casket above ground until final rights had been delivered by the eldest family member in attendance. The family gathered in a small grouping and began to sing “Precious Memories”. They sang beautifully, and their grandmother sang the lead as she mourned the loss of her adult grandson. There was no viewing, this family follows Old West traditions and does not embalm, nor view their dead. They do not look upon them for fear that their spirits will linger, and they open all of the doors and windows of their home so that spirits will not be trapped within its confines. Men, women and children all pitched in to return the earth back to the grave in the hot Texas morning sun. We left the woods as we had entered, carried by the family back to our vehicles parked beside paved roads, back to modern day and modern times.
I watched this family as they buried their loved one, and I saw something miraculous. Their grief, although very deep, was very natural for them. Due to their involvement in the burial, their recovery although sorrowful will be less riddled with complications. Each family member played a vital role in laying their loved one to rest, not only emotionally, but physically too. Men, women and children had hand cleared the trail for us to travel, had physically dug and covered the grave, had hand cleared boot hill, had collected the covering stones from across their property, and had even harvested the wood from their old family cabin to build the casket. By the time we were back to our vehicles, this family had worn themselves out physically and only needed rest, refreshment and family communion to recover from the loss of their loved one.
This family understands that recovery from loss is not accomplished by ignoring its occurrence. It is not accomplished by sending an arrangement of flowers and acting like you are not affected by the void death has created within your soul. Recovery is best accomplished by facing death square in the face and serving your departed loved ones one last time. Doing for them what they cannot do for themselves, and supporting those who also mourn your loss, will bring you the greatest comfort and quickest recovery possible.
I am a funeral director, and I make my living burying the dead. My greatest responsibility, however, is to help survivors recover from their devastation and to assist them with a better funeral experience. My best advice to survivors is to look back and learn from history. Serve your kindred dead one last time and do for them what they cannot do for themselves. Even if the only task possible is to respect openly and express your love for them, or to wipe your slate clean of any wrong doing by yourself or by the decedent, do it. If you do, you will find that although you will miss them terribly, and you will grieve for them from the depths of your soul, you will be comforted in your efforts to love and serve them one final time. In some instances, loving the deceased is impossible, in such a case, forgiveness, either for yourself or for them, will be your greatest comforter.
The past two weeks have been difficult for me. I have suffered the loss of a dear friend and have served families that have suffered great losses. The COVID-19 pandemic has caused unwarranted loss, stress, and heartache to so many people this year. Not only have we lost loved ones, but we have lost our economy, our comfort, and our security as Americans. Everywhere I look, it seems that people are rude and uncaring toward each other when what we need is love. I wish we could be kind to each other, considerate to each other, and help each other through our difficulties rather than burning cities, burning businesses, and tearing apart what makes up great, our Union. Americans are the most blessed people in the world. We live in a time of convenience and wealth. Why is it then that we can’t add kindness and respect to our society? Why must there be murders and brutal attacks on innocent people walking down the street? I work with families every day who would give all that they have for just one more moment with their loved one to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” Time is so precious, but even more precious is the way that we treat others. For if we treat others with contempt, we will reap the bitter reward of hatred. Hate eats a person from the inside out, and no matter how hard a hateful person tries to find happiness, it will never come to them. I know this because I see it every day. A hateful heart has no room for happiness. Happiness only comes to those who love. Love is like light. Light is the only thing that is stronger than the dark. If you have a completely dark room and you strike a match, the light from that match will push the darkness away and light up the room. Conversely, if you have a room filled with light and you cup your hands to create a spot of darkness. As soon as you open your hands, the dark is gone. Light overpowers it just as love overpowers hate. Love is the only thing that is stronger than hate. If you strike an ember of love in the heart of someone full of hate, love will grow and overtake their hatred. In my profession, love is very important. I see all too often those who have pushed love aside thinking that they were winning an argument or for some other ridiculous reason. What I see when this happens is that at the end of life, those who were foolish and let hatred get the best of them suffer the most. They remain miserable for the rest of their lives. Don’t be one of these people. Don’t let hatred get the best of you. And most assuredly, let us not allow hatred to overtake our country. I don’t want to live in a world filled with hatred and discontent. I want happiness and love for all. I especially want love in your life when you suffer loss because believe me, when the grim reaper knocks, it’s too late to cry for one more moment to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” At that moment, the weight of hatred crushes every hope you ever had to make amends, to accomplish happiness, or to right any wrong you may have perpetrated. It’s too late and you are the person who will suffer the consequences of your vicious actions. You are the person who will have no friends, no love, and who will die alone; miserable because of your hatred and terrible deeds. I know because I see it in so many people who thought they could just make a statement, a judgment, or an action and not suffer the consequences. In the end, it’s the hateful people who suffer the consequences. They die alone without love or support. Their needs are not met and they writhe in misery. I lost a dear friend this past week. He was kind, loving, and good. He made the world a better place, and he made my life happier through his actions of kindness toward me. I wish everyone alive could have known my friend. Christ died to make man holy, and my friend John took up his offer. John was a holy man. He lived his life serving others, teaching others, and helping anyone who needed help. He was filled with love and he shared his love with those who needed it. If we could all be like John, the world would be an amazingly happy and beautiful place. John is gone and I feel the weight of his loss deeply in my soul. He leaves a legacy of service to our nation, service to Christ, and service to anyone who needed it. He was a good man, a great man, and now he is gone. I will have the honor of directing his memorial service in a few days. The church will be bursting as those who John served make their way there to express their sorrow and love for him. I will be one of those people. John’s legacy will continue in his absence because he ignited goodness, love, and service in the hearts of those about him. May we all understand and embrace John’s mission in life to serve and love our fellow beings. Doing so will bring us the greatest rewards. It will fill our lives with the greatest gifts on earth; joy, happiness, and love. This is my prayer for you, for our nation, and for the world during this time of uncertainty and discontent. Thank you, John, for being my friend, and my God bless you as you arrive home, never to suffer more, the pains of the world nor heartaches of men. Godspeed.
I received a first call late last night and was therefore at the hospital when I ran into an acquaintance of mine. As we spoke, she told me that her father had recently died. She began to cry and I offered to send over a set of my grief books (Mourning Light I, II, & III) to her office the following morning. I wrote her a sympathy card and delivered the books about 15 minutes ago. She had not yet arrived at her office, so I left the books and card with her secretary. The following is the note I wrote in the sympathy card. I thought I would share it, in hopes that it might help others who mourn as well. Dear Friend, February will be the 2nd anniversary of my grandson’s death. It is said that “Death is Final”; that is untrue. The pain and loneliness remain in my soul, and it feels as though I held his lifeless body, yesterday, in my arms. That day broke me; it almost killed me. Had I not had the love and support of my husband and children, I don’t think my sanity would have remained with me. The pain continues to crush my soul with anguish. There are 4 things that have helped me survive the debilitating pain of losing my grandson, and I wanted to share them with you in hopes that you might find peace in them as well. Prayer Prayer was, and continues to be, my saving grace. Without the love and promise of Christ’s redeeming grace, peace would remain unobtainable. Recounting my Experience Sharing my story out loud made it real. It took away my fear. It gave me power over the chaos of pain. Information As a certified grief counselor, knowing what to expect and whether it was normal or abnormal helped keep my worries at bay. The books that I have sent over are filled with information, plainly and simply written, to help you understand and identify the symptoms of grief, as well as recovery’s signs and secrets. Journaling Writing down my anguishes, thoughts, pains, worries, and fears helped me to let them go. I was able to organize myself, and it gave me hope for my future. I am sorry for the dreadful sorrow in your heart, and the pain that infiltrates your daily existence. I understand that breathing feels unnatural, it takes effort to continue on, and that peace eludes you. I wish that death did not exist, but it is a reality that the both of us know all too well; one that we must endure. I believe that families are forever, that we are all God’s children, and that we will reunite with our loved ones across the veil as we too, one day, experience death. Until that day arrives, however, I pray that you and I will live our lives as emissaries of Christ, basking in his grace, and recipients of his glory. I hope that as you suffer the loss of your daddy that you will feel comfortable in reaching out to others, and that you might call me should you need assistance. The pain of grief should never be carried nor suffered in silence, nor alone. Reach out and allow those who love and care for you to lighten your burdens. Life will never be as it once was, but it will improve as you share priceless moments of peace with those who remain by your side. I hold you in high esteem, and pray that Christ’s promise will grace your soul. With Deepest Regards, Tracy Lee My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am a Certified Grief Counselor (GC-C), Funeral Director (FDIC), published author, syndicated columnist, and co-founder of the “Mikey Joe Children’s Memorial” and Heaven Sent, Corp. I write books, weekly bereavement articles, and Grief BRIEFs related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award. It is my life's work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on, as well as educate adults in the needs of surviving children.