Being a Taphophilie: My Story

I thought that I would preface this by saying, welcome to The Crypt Chick! At this current stage in the making, I haven't completed my 'About' section yet, but this will be the next best thing, and probably the better thing!

What is a Taphophile?

The official meaning of the word 'Taphophile', in accordance to the wikitionary goes as follows: "A person who is interested in cemeteries, funerals and gravestones.". However, we can cross the funerals bit off if we're referring to myself. 

A Taphophile may also be referred to as a 'Tombstone Tourist', although I only enjoy that entitlement when travelling to a cemetery in an unfamiliar place.

How did I get into graveyards?

When I was very young, my Nonna's (Italian) mum died. Some of my earliest memories are visiting her. She was very poorly; in her nineties, bed-bound. However, sadly she was near blind, so she had the thickest pair of glasses known to man, and she would always request that I go right up to her so she could see me. As a 5 year old, this terrified me. 

Every year following this we would go to Italy to visit her grave, and soon after my Nonna & Nonno joined her in the same spot. On our way back, my mum and I would play a game of 'find the oldest grave'. We would also make up stories about the people buried nearby after seeing their portraits (a common thing in Italy). 

Me beside my Nonna's grave, when I was about 17. Sorry, not ready for a face reveal yet!

...and that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I became a Taphophile.

The Later Years

Now, if you asked me a year ago what I would've thought about myself if I'd been taking photos of graves, I would've called you crazy. When I first started on findagrave, I would literally go all 'sneaky' fearing that I would get told off, and I hate getting told off!

I've now grown courage and I absolutely love fulfilling requests and activating memories again. Not even memories, just stories. I'm not the biggest believer in religion, but if somebody can write a book about someone all those years ago, then why should John from 1742 who lived down the road be forgotten? They had stories too.



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