Whistle Past The Graveyard

Whistle past the graveyard is an old expression. Here’s how the dictionary defines the phrase:

Definition of whistle past the graveyard: to act or talk as if one is relaxed and not afraid when one is actually afraid or nervous.

He displays a confident manner, but he may just be whistling past the graveyard.

I had a bit of difficulty with “the cemetery thing” at first. I felt awkward when I visited. I felt uneasy even though this was where my beautiful wife is laid to rest. I asked myself, “What’s wrong with me?”

It’s getting better. The cemetery is close to where I live, and it’s near many of the grocery stores and shopping places I frequently go to. I’ve also made a promise to stop whenever I’m right there. Even if it’s only for a minute or two, that’s been helpful so far.

You’ve got to love friends who help you take the cemetery visit up to a new level of comfort. James and his wife, Trish, have been wonderful friends for many years. Likewise, Susan and I have been to their home for dinner countless times, and they have come to ours for the same. We’ve traveled together many times. They are those kinds of friends – fun, supportive, and full of joy. They have also been tremendous friends both during Susan’s illness and after she passed. They miss her just as much as I do.

Two weeks ago, James called me and said, “It’s time for a martini at the cemetery. Meet me there on Saturday at 4 pm.” At this point, you must know that Susan LOVED a good martini on weekends. Sure enough. That particular Saturday, I arrived at her gravesite. James rolls up a few minutes later with a cooler of ice, a shaker, vodka, vermouth, olives, and three martini glasses.

We sat on the grass on a beautiful, warm Saturday afternoon. Jim poured a Martini for the three of us. James and I caught up on things, but we also included Susan in the conversation. Many toasts to her and her memory. Other visitors to the cemetery smiled as they walked by.

It was so lovely and fun. It helped me overcome my shyness at the cemetery. Sure, I may have been whistling past the graveyard. But it helped me cope. We’re all looking for ways to cope and grieve.

One more thing. We’re going to have martinis with Susan again soon. Cheers!