I was in Zermatt this year at the end of October. Life and death seem to touch in this place of high altitude where the Matterhorn dominates the view from cobblestone streets. The trams up the mountain are full of joyous healthy skiers, starting the season early. Travelers of many nationalities and age walk trails and through the streets, marveling at the Matterhorn and history of the village. No matter where any of us walk, we pass several graveyards, all well kept. The largest is flanked by the river and any day, at sunset, there are several people clearing leaves or windswept brush and lighting candles. Almost every grave is marked, not just by its headstone, but by care. Evergreens and heather are common in late fall, but in any season, there are flowers and natural offerings to remember the climbers, residents, and visitors who are buried there.
A few days before I left, an arrangement of greens, pinecones, and purple flowers adorned by two white fleur-de-lys was delivered to the hotel. I asked why. The receptionist, now in her sixties but who in her youth had climbed the Matterhorn three times, explained, " We are Catholic. Monday is All Saints Day". Later as I walked through town, I saw similar arrangements; some for sale at the grocery, some already placed on graves.
I am home now. The remnants of Halloween are apparent. Candy wrappers fly in wind. Jack o'lanterns shrivel in the cold. I recall learning the origins of All Hallows Eve, All Saints Day and All Souls Day when I was about nine years old. I remember being fascinated how the combination of old English, Irish, and French traditions led to carving jack o' lanterns and trick or treating. I remember learning that the customs of Halloween provided protection and that the next two days were very holy.
This Thursday is Remembrance Day in Canada, commemorating the armistice of the First World War and paying tribute to all who have lost their lives in war. This year seems especially somber to me. Even the teenagers who carry boxes of poppies to pin on collars for remembrance have a gravitas that I do not recall. 2010 has been a year on on-going war and natural disasters. Many have unexpectedly lost their lives, and many others have suddenly lost friends or family.
I think of those that I loved that are gone. I think of friends and family who have lost their loved ones. I think of the passage of seasons - the abundance of summer, the barrenness of late fall, the purity of snow in winter, and the blossoming of spring - and I think of nature as a great teacher. The traditions of how we recognize passages change with each generation but we still do revere the cycle of life. I am grateful to have been in Zermatt to be reminded of All Saints Day and All Souls Day. I am grateful for these lessons.
