Why have I described my parents deaths in detail? Why have I sketched out the travails with my sisters? Well, I suppose it’s a catharsis for me to talk about the events of my parent’s deaths. Perhaps its a cleansing of sorts, pack them up carefully, put them away and store them in a safe place. Maybe, since I’m an inveterate teacher, it's to educate those who haven’t yet experienced this in their life. Or perhaps, to seek to connect with those who have, in an effort not only to offer them comfort, but also to find it.
In my grief, I have been able to rely on my Universalist faith. My parents didn’t believe in any kind of life after death and they certainly didn’t believe in God. But I do, and it is very reassuring to know that they are with God and peaceful in God’s love. When I die, I know I will be reunited with them and God. I can sometimes still feel them around me, particularly my father.
Last summer, when I was injured in a car crash, he hovered about my bed as I recovered. Last month, on the night before my nephew’s wedding, I had a vivid dream about my father. He was walking vigorously, as I remember him when he was younger and had a smile on his face. Daddy had longish white hair and, his trademark white beard – he looked kind of like a prophet instead of a funny old man. I said to him, “Daddy, you look happy!” He replied, “I am!” We talked about some other things, too, but I don’t remember them, just our opening conversation.
Many of us have already dealt with these kinds of events. The baby boom generation is finally realizing the sad truth, that they cannot remain forever young and will have to face the fact that their time to be old, frail, and dependent will come along, too and sooner than they think!
Those of us who are part of that generation, are used to having all our facts at hand. We get onto the computer and download all the information we need on a particular topic. However, have any of you recently looked up the topic of dealing with aging parents or coming to grips with their impending or real death? There isn’t much out there.
Ok, you think, so I’ll go to my local bookstore and see shelves of books on this topic. No, you won’t. There are shelves of books on the beginning of life, but precious little on the end. Our contemporary society avoids talk about death. We are sometimes told, however, that death is a part of life. Yes, that is true to some degree. But death is not incorporated into our lives as it is in other cultures. I think we are missing something very important and profound. True, we are given a couple days off from work, but that isn’t much of an acknowledgement of what death can do in the life of someone or their family.
In the 19th century, people would drape black material around the door of their house to indicate a death had occurred. Women who lost their husbands wore black clothes for a year or more. Men who had lost a loved one, wore a black armband. If you are Jewish, you sit shiva for a week or two. In the Orthodox Christian tradition, you have a feast one week after someone has died, then at a month, six weeks, and so on. If you are Irish Catholic, you have a grand wake, toasting the recently deceased. We see on TV and in the newspaper, when a Moslem dies, their relatives are very open and dramatic in their mourning.
So, where does that leave those of us, who profess a more or less Protestant faith? Like the old saying about Presbyterians being the Frozen Chosen, we are essentially left out in the cold. We don’t have any set procedures when someone dies. Offerings of food and sympathetic words is about all we can do.
Several years ago, a baby died within this parish, Frances Pepper. Word went around, that after the funeral service, there would be a reception at Vicki and Brian’s house and would we please bring something to share? The amount of food in their kitchen was unbelievable. Mountains of casseroles, sliced meats and cheeses, snacks, rolls, cakes, pies, you name it. I think they ate off of that generousness for weeks. But what else could we do to express our sadness to them? When a family loses a child, a baby, words seem so inadequate.
Rituals and traditions are what is needed, but we don’t really have them. In small towns across the U.S., food is brought to the next of kin. But, once the funeral or memorial service is over, and all of the sympathy cards have been read, what else is there? We go back to work, to school, to carrying on our ‘normal’ life, when we truly don’t feel like it. As we walk down the halls at work or school no one really knows that we have lost someone we loved. There are no outward signs that we are in mourning. This is a period of time in which we need to be treated gently and kindly. We are still so raw emotionally.
I would advocate that we go back to the 19th century idea of wearing black clothes and armbands and put black bunting on our house. Or maybe just a black ribbon pinned to our jacket lapel would indicate to others that we are grieving. In Judaism saying the Kaddish, is one way to mark and commemorate the anniversary of a loved one’s death. In the Roman Catholic church, a mass can be said for the deceased. It is perhaps not authentic to pilfer another’s tradition, but what else do we have? What do we really have as a custom that adequately serves to fully and deeply commemorate the death of someone you have loved? Those are questions I don’t know the answers to, and perhaps there are no good answers. Some people don’t even want to think about this topic, but I believe that it is an issue that our society, and we as individuals and also as members of this parish, will eventually need to address.
Read Part I of Death on a Hot July Afternoon, a sermon preached July 18, 2004, by Jennifer Sandberg