Memorial Services -- How They are the Coolest Sad Things.

This is the response to a friend who recently expressed that she did not want any type of service in her memory.

I had the same thought. In fact, as I do with everything about which I feel very passionately, I was vehement in my rejection of funeral homes and services. I felt that the services were rather morbid, obligatory dramas that did not at ALL truly respect or reflect the deceased.

My first experiences with such services started when I was 10 (1966), and my grandmother died. After that, my first love (1985) and my Uncle (1987). I hated the stranger's (funeral home's employees) words as they talked about MY person; about heaven, and as they offered "inspirational" readings. 

I hated the stayed, contained rows of polite mourners. I hated the fact that in-and-out, from "x" to "x" hour, we would "pay our respects" by listening to the "stuff," and then go back home. I hated the strange disconnection, the creepy aspect to it all. The odd absence of emotion, the odd protocol followed by us, silently sitting in the room, or softly weeping into a kleenex. Nobody talked at these services. Nobody coaxed out the true memories, the joys the funny things, the stories, the love, the PERSON. It was a walk through an odd hell, in my opinion, and I swore that I would NEVER want a "service."

I found that my own story, one of developing my own beliefs around memorial services, was one I wanted to tell.So, here is my take, and my changed viewpoint regarding memorial services:

I always absolutely refused the idea of a "memorial service," they grossed me out in their dark, *paid-for* vibe...How strange that life places one in the positions we don't necessarily expect...had anyone told me that I would end up being an "end-of-life specialist and grief counselor, I wouldn't have believed it.

With this world that I have come to know so well, I see that a service is something that assuages the shock and isolation of grief over somebody we've lost. In other words, the shock, the unwelcome wound, the slamming removal of someone we love, from our sight and days, is so overwhelming that the possibility of joining with others to feel accompanied in that love, that loss...is invaluable. It is the same motivation that brings people to the streets with flowers and candles after a bombing, for example. That need for union with others who also feel the pain…

Dark, moribund tone does not have to mark these gatherings. In those that I have reaped great love and warmth from, there is a lot of story telling and laughter…oral tradition that is so beautiful, which as a society, we have lost. People also learn a lot about the person they've lost...things they didn't know...extra "pieces" of their loved one that are so yearned-for...("I didn't know that story!") How great to leave with yet more of that person...Openings for sentimentality that we do not allow into our daily routines are so valuable, also (especially men, for their myriad societal inculcations).

(I wrote to my friend--) You are so lovely, I have no doubt whatsoever that your leave-taking would (will) occasion deep pain in many — many who would also feel compelled to and comforted by a gathering of hurting souls. I categorically reject association with funeral homes (though some mortuary owners can be wonderful, and some grieving families can not handle doing it themselves)...this is of the heart, not the wallet.

I do, however, now, understand the comfort that a get together gives…it is not a lugubrious, morbid “wahhhhhhh” ~ it is more of a circle of honor…their love for you, and the honor of carrying that privilege of friendship/ family/ acquaintance. It is affirming in ways beyond the person who’s left. It is also a precious reminder of the circle…it is good for all to be close to this consciousness…the fragility of life and the significance of n-o-w. All in all, I can not say enough about the realization of some type of gathering in honor of a loved one.

The way things go is a personal decision, obviously. I wanted to share my story… from a dyed-in-the-wool service rejector, to someone who finds them to be a beautiful window to LIFE, as there are few things that make us prickle with the idea of life, and its beauty and delicate nature, as does death. In those tender circles, I have found great inspiration, and love deeper than I se otherwise. These services are a gift. Thanks for reminding me of this position…I understand it, and do know several friends who vehemently want NOTHING.

I hope that this is a little window into something that we tend not to like to think about. At the same time, it can be the source of love, comfort, and awakening, such that we do not experience in our everyday lives.

May all have a lovely day, Joana