Funereal Thoughts and a postscript

Yesterday was the funeral for my kindred spirit.

It took place at a Lutheran church.  Funerals tend to make me think two things:

– how well does the person doing the service speak to the emotional needs of those present

– what rituals are done to help the people process the moment (with a postscript ponderation on Wiccan and Pagan rituals around death, or lack thereof)

These can be the same thing but not necessarily so.  Sometimes the service addresses the emotional component without ritual.  Sometimes the ritual is about a spiritual moment rather irrespective of the funeral.

Our clergy are not trained, not in the go to school, classroom, teacher way.  Many of us find our own way (though some are lucky to have guidance!).  We aren’t given pre-set forms on how to handle death for a congregation or psychological training for handling the emotional impact.  I’m not saying we can’t and aren’t good at it, just that we don’t have a formal training system to make sure we all get there with a measured level of competence.

We also don’t have pre-set rituals.  I mean, here we were, a crowd of probably 150 people lined up in the pews, sharing bound books with the order of the ceremony laid out, complete with hymn references and prayers.  Go to any Lutheran church and I’m betting it’s the same.  I also wouldn’t be surprised on similarities between different Christian sects.

Again, not a bad thing that we don’t have such hidebound fixed rituals.  😉  But I wonder if we will feel a lack in future years when more of us start passing on (an interesting part of being such a young religion).  There was such comfort for people in being able to share the familiar ritual.  It was a touch-stone, a grounding, a communal centering into the moment that would lay pathways to help make things just a little easier in the days to come.

I think I’d be the type to want a wake.  Sure, a eulogy would be nice, but I’d love for people to share stories about me (I don’t think there would be a lack of them), to remember me as I am in life.  I think I will contemplate the ritual part.  I may even get back to you with it.

Have you thought about it?  How you want those left behind to deal with your absence?  Have you told anyone so that it may actually happen?

~Abysmal Witch

 

As promised, a postscript (originally I was calling this a funny postscript, but as I wrote it up I realized that it wasn’t really funny, but I still found it interesting):

At 3 in the morning (why, oh why, is it always 3 in the morning for such things?) last night my cats woke me up with thunderous running on my balcony.  Since they’re only allowed out if they behave I pulled myself out of bed and called at them to come in.  They were more than a little slow at it but finally arrived and I shoved the door shut behind them.

That was when I noticed what had caused the delay.  The cause of the noise outside was a big, chubby moth that they’d been playing with.  They came inside but only after they’d grabbed the moth and carried it in with them.

I was heart-bursting proud at that moment that they’d listened to me.  (Following a command rather than just doing what they want was impressive for a pair of brattish cats, but doing so when there was a live creature involved was just this side of miraculous.)

It also struck me as funny given that of course they would have their own way in the end.

Abymsal Witch – Episode 5

Last night I did a ritual to say farewell to my friend.  I recorded a podcast episode right afterwards (so that I would remember what I had done) as I thought some of you might find such a ritual interesting and/or helpful someday.

Above is the altar (or part of it).  I think it’s pretty.  But then, candlelight makes most things lovely.  Following is a picture of the inside of the offering bowl (for a description of what is in it and what it was used for, you’ll need to listen to the podcast).

Sometimes we need to remember to not just drink from life, but sniff it, too.  Scent is a powerful tool, but that is a topic for another day.

Take care of yourselves, and those around you.

~Abysmal Witch

I lost a kindred spirit today.

Not long after I started working at my University, I made a phone call to our central finance department to try and fix some problem (the details of which are last in the annals of time…it has been over twelve years after all).  And that’s when I ‘met’ C.

C was wonderfully capable – he could fix or find someone to fix any problem that related at all to his world.  But that wasn’t the important part.

We didn’t meet in person for maybe a year.  Over the last twelve years we’ve probably met as many times in person though talked on the phone a bit more than that.  But that didn’t matter.

When we talked, we talked.  He had the most ridiculous stories.  I’m 93% sure they were all real (or is that I’m sure at least 93% of them were real?).  He was outrageous, funny, bright, and we would share work stories and home stories and opposite sex stories.  He threatened to do nasty things to my new car.  He was the ring-leader of his morning commute (he would do things like convince the newbie ((the same people rode the bus day in and day out)) that the goodies that someone had brought that day was a regular occurrence and convinced the newb to bring goodies their next time on that bus).

I’m shocked he was never brought up on sexual harassment charges.

But I guess that was ultimately due to his caring nature (though some of the things he said! lol).

About two months ago I heard that he was in the hospital with cancer.  He was in his early 50s, quite possibly going to take early retirement.  He’d had various physical difficulties over the years but he’d never let that stop him from living life.

I was going to visit him that weekend but my back acted up and I didn’t make it.  My own life took over and time passed.  And then I wasn’t sure he was still in the hospital, so I would have to call and check he was there before dropping in on him.

Today I learned that he died on Saturday.

I am so sad.  We weren’t close friends, but he was a kindred spirit and he is gone.  I regret that I never said a final ‘you nutcase!’ to him.  I could wallow in self-blame, ‘should’ on myself for not getting to the hospital as I intended.  But that is foolish.  I made the choices I made and he certainly would not blame me for it.

There are so many things I could focus on but there’s just one I want to say:

To all of my kindred spirits out there, whether I’ve met you in person or only online, whether we’re close friends or random acquaintances, whether we ever get the chance to spend much time together or not, I honour our kindred nature.

You rock 🙂

Bad days, Sad days

Note:  this post is NOT to elicit sympathy, concern or expressions of support (no, seriously, I appreciate any such thought but really don’t want or need to hear it).  I’m sharing because some days are bad days and there is something to be learned in them.

And yes, today is a bad day.  My stupid freakin back is acting up enough for me to be incapable of ignoring it or pretending its just a blip.  While I have held to a general state of calm and positive thinking, somedays fear surges up and all the horrible possibilities start doing a whirly twirly dance around me.  Bad days are really good for letting the fear in (the fear in this case residing in how long will this injury last, will it outlast the really good medical leave at work, will I ever get back to normal, etc.).

What’s interesting is that sadness also leaks out on days like this.  Is it just anger twisted inwards?  Fear turned sideways?  Or is it true sadness?

I honestly don’t know.  It’s just a sea of heart-break, waves slipping long and deep across my inner sands.  It wells up and subsides in a rhythm only it knows.

I don’t know what’s being released through this.  I can only accept it as part of myself that needs its own acknowledgement, its own space, its own share of my attention.

And what I’ve found in the past is that when deep sadness or pain is lurking just below consciousness, one of the best ways for me to finish drawing it to the surface and release it is to watch an emotionally intense movie.  There are some guarantee to make me cry scenes here and there, but let’s face it, you want a movie to wring you out, why not go with What Dreams May Come?  After all, almost everyone is dead within the first ten minutes and the remainder die by the end anyways 😀

We’ll see what else may come tonight.  Okay, anyone else think that sounded dirty?

~Abysmal Witch