To Celebrate and Commemorate - Closing a Door with Love

“Why is it that we rejoice at a birth and grieve at a funeral? It is because we are not the person involved.” Mark Twain

There is no preparation for the loss of a loved one. A funeral ceremony offers closure to those bereaved. Comfort comes in recalling and sharing fond memories, the courage and the spirit of the one no longer with us. Even though they are no longer around, their essence does live on always in our hearts. Eventually, a door closes and we move on, the richer for having known and loved.

The blessing is that someone has touched us so deeply that we can feel the loss keenly. Without feeling a depth of love, our lives would be so much poorer. We are blessed when we have connected with what I see as the “majestic essence” that we each are, deep down, and can often recognize more readily in others than in ourselves. Another person will mirror to us the essence of love that lives on beyond the daily mundane concerns that preoccupy us.

There is a value, when a loved one has died, in spending time recalling their life, especially the high points, perhaps their achievements, the gifts they expressed, the qualities we loved and admired that especially touched and were meaningful for us. Close family and friends can draw great solace from knowing they did their best in life (we all do) and to accept their passing in a peaceful way. More than that, I have known families who come together in a greater way through the funeral of a dear relative.

So what can those who have passed teach us who are left behind? One of the aspects I appreciate at a funeral is that family and friends seem more real with each other, sometimes talking more openly and honestly, with more humour and respect for each other. We are more tender. We speak from the heart. With death, there is also the sense of a re-birth for those who remain. As one door closes, another opens. Of course, we miss the physical presence but the love in us never leaves. It can grow. Alongside the sadness of the loss, as a celebrant I also experience the joy that was inherent in the person’s life. It touches me how sometimes the most ordinary of people have touched many others, who come to pay their respects, and unknown to those closest to them.

My aunt was one such. She was a quiet person, definitely introvert, who lived simply but quite courageously, having known some great losses in her own life. She had a delightful sense of humour and could always be relied upon to see the funny side of life. Her giggle was infectious. At her funeral, I was amazed at how many gorgeous bouquets of flowers were there from people with whom she had shared some of her remarkable spirit. In life I have yet to find someone who is not remarkable in some way. When I look beyond the struggles and challenges a person may undergo in their life, I am always aware of the core of goodness that sustained them. I have observed that it is much easier to bear loss with a loving frame of mind, free from unfulfilled wishes, hopes, desires.

Regrets, resentments, animosity, hard feelings of any kind make the pain more enduring. If at all possible, we need to forgive in order to let go freely. We need to forgive ourselves for things said or left unsaid; for deeds done that were less than we might have wished, or deeds we wished we might have done. We need to forgive the other for their shortcomings, misunderstandings and errors. A funeral is an opportunity to come to peace within ourselves for whatever is now passed. That is a great blessing to receive.

When we recognize and focus on the goodness we perceive in a life, then we can truly celebrate it. I like to think that as much as we can celebrate one who has died, we might also celebrate our own lives more. Perhaps as I write this during the Christmas season, I am more aware of the spirit of generosity and compassion being expressed around me. It is actually there all the time, not just for one season.

When closure has happened, we can move on. The door is shut. We walk into a new phase of life. The tears, the depth of feelings are such an important part of the passing through. In the gap left behind, we have an openness for what is yet to come. Vulnerability has, as I understand it, the meaning of both the ability to be wounded and the ability to be blessed. The wounded in French are “blessés”.

My view is that we are spiritual beings, on an earthly journey to experience what is here, and to learn from our experiences. We get to meet certain conditions and circumstances that facilitate our understanding. The spiritual essence that we are never leaves us, though we may lose our awareness of it.

As we meet difficulties in our lives, we can draw upon our inherent, divine nature to heal, release and see ourselves in a new light. This essence is loving and as we make contact with this love, we are comforted by it. In life, there is engagement. In death, there is fulfilment and with it comes peace.

The greatest resource we always have within ourselves is love. We love through our tears and sadness. We love through our joy and celebration. These passing moments bless us with love. Love is what nurtures us in its many forms of expression.

At a funeral, my job is to conduct a ceremony of love, to be an intimate witness to the sorrow and heartache, the laughter and joy, as the door closes gently on the life of a loved one. In preparing for the ceremony, I love to spend time with the families and friends and learn about the many dimensions of the life that has passed. With the notes I take, I prepare a commemoration to be expressed at the ceremony. However I can support and assist, I am there to celebrate the life now ended. My role is a great honour and a privilege.

“The Irish are often nervous about having the appropriate face for the occasion. They have to be happy at weddings, which is a strain, so they get depressed; they have to be sad at funerals, which is easy, so they get happy.”  Peggy Noonan