Why do so many people go into working with the dead, even to the point of making businesses out of helping them pass over, yet have no strong habit of ancestor veneration themselves? How can they claim to respect someone else's dead when they don't respect their own?

This just continually boggles me. Just honoring one's dead on Samhain isn't enough. When it comes down to it, that's virtually an insult. 'Here Grandpa, I'll give you this day. But the rest of the year I'm going to focus on spooks and shades and unrested dead of everyone else 'cause hey, I did my feel good moment with you already.' It's like one's own ancestors aren't sexy or interesting or exciting enough.

Yeah, and we wonder why our American culture lacks any depth and has a horrific sense of loss regarding our roots.

*Pic of Camilla Jane Smith (infant), daughter of Alexander Smith and Mary Jane Martin. Camilla (1861-1936), my great great grandmother in my mother's mothers line.

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