On the day of Mom's funeral, we gathered at the cemetery around Mom's casket, family in the front row. The pastor said a few words, but I don't recall a single one. Afterwards, Dad, my wife, my uncle and I walked past Mom's coffin, putting our hand on it as we passed.
After the people who had come to pay their respects said a few words to Dad and me and got in their cars to drive to the wake, the funeral home director asked if we would like to see Mom lowered into the ground. I felt I had to be present for it. There was an awkward period where it was unclear when that process would begin, and it turned out the grounds workers were waiting for us to indicate we were ready. As they began to lower the coffin, a small dog appeared and began to happily run around us and the coffin. When the coffin had been fully lowered, everyone seemed to feel we were done. But not me. I wanted to grab a handful of dirt, and drop it over Mom's coffin.
Where did this inclination come from for me? I suppose, for me, it starts with show business. A couple examples of this tradition being shown on television come to mind, but there are many other. A warning: a few minor spoilers for Friday Night Lights and Six Feet Under follow.
First, a scene that isn't quite on point, but stuck we me anyhow. This is from one of my favorite shows of all time, Friday Night Lights (Season 4, Episode 5, The Son). A little background to help explain the scene. Matt Saracen is at his father's funeral. He had always had a troubled relationship with his father, and has mixed emotions about his death.
And then there is the clip below from Six Feet Under (Season 1, Episode 1). The scene is more or less self-explanatory, but it shows how two brothers and a mother confront the death of their father and husband, respectively.
The internet, in its infinite wisdom, has some explanations for this tradition. According to Catherine Irving (a freelance writer with a bachelor's in Film and a minor in English; http://www.ehow.com/info_10006819_symbolism-throwing-dirt-coffin.html), the Christian observance of this tradition draws its roots back to ancient Egypt. Catherine is not the only person on the internet to give this explanation, but it unclear what they base their conclusions on. While the dirt is dropped, it is common to recite the words "ashes to ashes and dust to dust", which come from the Book of Common Prayer (not the bible, though they have roots in the bible).
After Mom's casket had been lowered, I looked around the cemetery for loose dirt, but there was none to be found. When I asked the funeral director, he looked around in confusion, but had no answer. Finally one of the grounds keepers got down on his belly next to the burial site, extended his arm deep down inside it, and grabbed a hunk of brown, wet earth from the side of the hole. He held it out in his hand, and I took it in my own. It felt heavy and cold. I stood looking down at Mom's final resting place and paused for a moment before dropping the dirt. It landed with a heavy and hollow thud against the steel frame of the casket. My hand was completely covered with mud, and I rubbed my hands together so the large globs of wet mud would fall off leaving only a dusty residue behind. It felt dirty, and that felt good.
So what did it mean to me? It is an act of acceptance, and it is an act of honoring. I will drop the first dirt onto her casket because I know that she is gone. I will get my hands dirty to solidify the memory of her passing.