Roanoke is a liminal place, a place of travel, crossroads, and temporary rest and sustenance along a much greater journey. The Mother of Roanoke seems to me a liminal Goddess of journeys and crossroads as well as hospitality.
Gravesites deserve to be cared for, frequented, and enjoyed. They should be places that inspire warmth, love, and feelings of interconnection, while also allowing for the very natural feelings of grief that come with all transitions.
Our ancestors — regardless of their characters and actions — can teach us and help us make the world better than it has been.
Perhaps the spirit of the moon still passes between the worlds, waking the dead from their dark sleep for brief periods. Perhaps we can more easily speak to the dead on new moon nights, when they rise under its pale silver light.
A vision of life after death, seen as a continuation but changing life in the landscape.