Good Mourning Grief

A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Tag: #funeral

Celebrating Here and After

June 9, 2024 /

My heart is full. That is what I said on a Sunday afternoon after I attended both a birthday party and a funeral in the same day.  It was a peculiar sensation of full circle to be celebrating two friends in such opposite ways.  I leaned into this feeling.

The first event was the birthday party. My friend arranged for thirty of her girlfriends to join her for brunch at the exquisite Palliser Hotel. She claimed it was her second last big party.  She wanted to share her gratitude and be a part of the festivities and told us she would not be at her next one.  She’d be dead. We laughed. You have to know her. She is full of life, an avid bookworm and far more energy than those half her age.  She has already planned her funeral including the inscription on her tombstone which will read, “The End.” She sent us home with a recipe card to fill in on one side “what makes you happy?” The other side of the card had her answers which included a restaurant budget, and at 80 she was enjoying retirement. On the top of her list was family -always.

I left the celebration to drive across town for the next party. This one, friends and family gathered at the picturesque Glencoe Golf and Country Club to say farewell. This party too had speeches and food and wine for a beautiful afternoon of remembering and honoring a man very much loved. It too had people speak of life and happiness and how fast it goes.  And because of life’s speed, to always put family first.  As did our friend with his life. A show of hands revealed that most of us in that room had received personal handwritten notes from him from time to time with words of hope and encouragement. We were asked to remember this characteristic of him and to share acts of kindness in our own ways as a tribute to him.

The day ended with Jon and I sitting on our patio reflecting on this day. I mentioned how odd it was of the commonalities of two very different reasons to gather and celebrate one’s life. Or was it?

I enjoyed the birthday party because my friend is alive, so I know she heard me tell her how lucky I am to be in her life.  I can hear her laugh and see her smile.  I can hug her with an expectation to see her again. Soon.

I enjoyed the funeral because my friends’ spirit is still very alive. Although not physically there, each person said they knew he was with us. It was a reminder that energy is distributed, and it never ends. And with that belief we can understand what was said, what was felt, our friend knows. He heard us honor him. Faith gives us the ability to rejoice in that which we shared; he still shares with us.

Somehow when I hang on to the important aspects of each of these commemorations, the love of family and the joy of having these people in my life, both events are fulfilling. They are similar, containing a gathering of stories, over food and wine with laughter and tears. Each one a moment in time of honoring and celebrating the expression of endless love. And that is what makes the heart so full.

For Laura

March 19, 2023 /

There were near 600 of us, gathered to say goodbye to Laura. We were not supposed to be here. She was only 34 years old. She was planning her wedding to the love of her life. She had a blossoming career she was passionate about. She wanted to be a mother. It was supposed to be a routine ‘tune up’ and she died on the operating table. Sudden death. We are all thrown into shock. Her father, a close friend of ours, asked my husband, “when will it seem real?” to which my husband replied, “Never”.

Her story is that of so many of our children. A life enthusiast that brought the sun into each room she entered. She made friends with everyone she met, evident by the number of young people crowding the hall. It reminded me of Zane’s celebration. His friends, dressed to honor him, holding each other in disbelief, tears, and toasts to their buddy. At Laura’s many of them wore Nike running shoes…her favorite.  Even her father showed off a new pair, a whimsical contrast to the formal suit he wore.

I sat there listening quietly to the testimonies given and the promises to always remember her. I heard her fiancé question how he could go on without his soul mate.  I heard her younger brother share that he loved her because she always ensured he “was seen”. His words cut me deepest. I envisioned Payton in his place just a few years earlier, bravely thanking Zane’s friends for being there for her on that day and asking them to be there for her forever. A promise they have kept.

Funerals are not about closure so much, but more the opening to facing grief.  They are a forum for those in pain to gather and share their love for the one that has gone and find comfort together. We reminisce in our shock and the questions begin. How could this have happened.  How will we go on.  And the most important one, where have they gone. 

I listened to these sweet young adults, pleading for a dream or a sign that she is somehow still here.  I wanted to hug each one of them and reassure them that it is true. She has not left. She will show up in beautiful, magical signs that your heart will know is her. It might be a dime found, the sailboat emoji shared between her and her close friend, it might be a Nike ad or a rainbow reminding you of her favorite song.  There will be signs. And they will speak to your soul directly.

I wanted to tell them that they now are responsible for the promises made that afternoon. They must keep saying her name. Celebrate her special days and bring into their own lives ways to honor her, celebrate her, continue her legacy.  She was brave. She was fun in a mischievous way that made everyone laugh.  Be that.  For her.

This funeral was hard for me because it reminded me so much of Zane’s. She reminded me so much of Zane. The beauty of her human experience.  The numerous lives she shaped, enriched. The agony that she had so many adventures still to enjoy. The senselessness of her death. But also came that afternoon, the quiet reminder that I have come to understand in my own journey; it is her body that we can no longer hold but that her spirit stays with us. My hope for our friend is that this understanding may come to be his one day. 

An Upside to Funerals

August 22, 2021 /

When a child dies, you have no idea where your grief will take you. And yet, you are expected to plan and host a ‘celebration’ for your child right away.  This is our culture. We followed protocol as most families do.  I have one fellow mom who could not and has not in the past two years held any sort of ceremony for friends and family to gather and remember her son.

Her child’s friends have complained about this; about not being able to have some closure. For mothers there is no closure and if this mother chose to not have a memorial, for whatever reason, let her grieve her way.  Then I attended a funeral for a mom whose son passed in March and because of circumstances, we gathered just this week. And his friends came.  And I saw a different side.

Somehow, this ability to gather as a larger group and remember their friend was very important. The ability to cry openly, and share stories and hugs was therapeutic. The opportunity to give their condolences to his mother and to share her grief of a loss that affected all of us was necessary. We went from the church to the graveyard where more tears and more memories followed with us.

This mom had gone an extra step.  She had taken his best friends to the cemetery prior to the funeral to share and receive feedback of the plot she had chosen. One of the stories from a young man who had been a part of this day, told us of how they had asked for a sign that their departed friend was with them.  And in the skies, the clouds spelled his name! All who there that day nodded, they had seen it too.  And they all smiled.  Smiled. Yes, this is good mourning.

The strength this mother demonstrated was inspiring.  She was a strong woman before his death.  Her strength has only grown from the love of her son and the innate understanding that he needed to be honored and his friends needed to have some sort of forum to grieve.

She asked me if a funeral is just a technicality.  I said yes and no. For us mothers, it is just another terrible day, an event to gather our strength and show up. Every day is a funeral after you have lost a child. However, for the friends of our child, it is a necessary step to begin healing. I knew this but had not witnessed its importance until I attended her sons’ funeral.

I do believe we all choose what we can do and how we do it to honor our children.  Judgment is not found here.  What is here is a comment that our society has this neat package around death. We are taught that funerals are the main event which enables us to move on. If we could create a culture where living with and bearing witness to pain outside of a funeral is reality, perhaps then we wouldn’t need them as much.  

Maybe funerals are avoided because the pain is too great but that is the funny thing about pain. It doesn’t go away so we need to tame it and somehow the upside to funerals is that it creates a place that can start that.

Reaching Out to Grieve

November 22, 2020 /

One of our closest friends lost her husband to cancer this week.  As I write this, the smells of soup and banana bread fill the air.  These comfort foods will be packed and delivered to her later today. We will cry and laugh and share memories of her sweet Bill. 

When Zane was killed our home was filled with friends bringing over cards, meals, gifts and hugs.  Although the shock and the grief blurred all that happened that day and the months following, I remember the love.  My nephew and his (new) wife brought over a Booster Juice each day, knowing I wasn’t eating.  A close friend brought a Chai Latte over every morning for me. Our neighbour brought food and our friends cleaned our home, brought tents and chairs for the back yard and fed everyone that was visiting. When we decided to have Zane’s celebration in our back yard, our friends came over and rebuilt our old deck.  One of those friends was Bill.  With a tracheotomy and a feeding tube, he worked in the hot sun for days alongside our other friends.  He was the foreman. I was afraid the heat would kill him!  He showed up and built us a deck that became the dance floor of dozens of Zane’s friends dancing to the sounds of the Back Street Boys!  This love cradled our grief.  It kept us from falling apart.

When a loved one passes on, the need to celebrate and honor them comes through the rituals of a funeral, a celebration of their life.  It is a time to share stories about them that made us laugh. It is a time to express our sadness with tears of understanding.  It is a time to honor our loved one with a sharing of song and prayer, pictures and readings.  It is a time to gather and share mutual grief.  It is a time to reach out and comfort each other; to hug and hold on to each other.  When you are unable to gather and celebrate altogether, where does this grief go?

As humans we need the therapeutic touch of others. We need to break bread together. The current times are difficult for everyone but for those grieving, these times can be unbearable.  If you are grieving, reach out.  Don’t let your grief become isolated.  If you know of one grieving, do what your comfort level will allow you to do to reach out. Bake bread, cook a meal to deliver.  Send flowers. Call them or write them to let them know you are thinking of them.  Share with them a story of their loved one.  Reach out. Even if we can’t hug, reach out.

I will offer to give my friend a big hug. I hope she takes it.  Her husband gave the very best, tightest hugs.  When he hugged you, you knew you were loved.  And I know my friend will miss those.   I will too.

© 2024 Good Mourning Grief

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑