Death is real.

But I remember long time ago, when death and dying was ephemeral and mysterious like a cloud floating out there, untouchable, far from me, a girl on the swing at Grandma’s farm

As I grew older, I played the piano for funeral services; attended memorial services – too many to count. I have experienced the death of relatives, grandparents, parents, sister, and a son. Death is no longer that fluffy, distant cloud, but rather, it is the rain that wets your hair, soaks your skin, drench you to the bones, and you shiver in its coldness.

The “end of life” is beyond explanation, and we use words to express what we think would give us comfort: passed away, gone to a better place, gone to heaven (no one ever refers to hell), resting in peace, no longer suffering, asleep in the grave, waiting for the resurrection, And those of us
who had drank from the bitter cup of this irretrievable loss, we mourn and grieve.

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, a pioneering psychologist, wrote, “You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal, and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again. But you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would want to.”

Psalm 23, often recited at burial services, mentions living life through “green pastures, still waters, want, enemies, and yes, death.” But it ends with an assurance: “Though I walk through the valley of shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me”.

Still, death stings.


In Memoriam

Elegy

I sit motionless looking at your face
Just as I gazed at you thirty-three years ago
A bundle of love in my arms.
You are no longer, but you are here.
All is calm, there is no fear.
All is well, there is no pain.
In your passing, time stood still
And I am carried into a sacred realm
For sacred places are entered in stillness.
Then I hear music echoing the voice
Un-silenced through the ages:
“You shall be with Me in paradise.”
Arne, my precious son,
I’ll see you in the morning.


Photo: St. Margaret Memorial Garden, Fleming Island, FL 2024