Oh lord how I love my family, my first thought. Yet writing that line has brought tears to the surface of my eyes. Isn’t nature a wonderful gift, when you know, learn, and you allow yourself to be open to its lessons?
Tears are to cleanse the spirit, tears of love, sorrow, though such tears are salty; encourage the growth of peace in your spirit, when you lose a loved one.
If, a big if, you let them flow externally, from cheek to lip, while being held in friends’ and family’s caring arms. They cure grief.
Tears that we conceal; that flow internally, behind your eyes into your spirit, that we hide with false pride, tears we deny exist within us in the public domain, exhibiting our strength, will flood your heart, and drown your spirit.
That type of false strength is a huge weakness in the natural cycle of grieving.
A little dignified self pity is so healthy at times of bereavement, so understandable to us all. Yet we see so many at funeral homes holding it all in.
Dignified, self pity, at a time of personal loss, human sadness; not to be confused with obsession of loss.
An essential part of the grieving process is knowing when to let go. To be content with your loss. Honour your loved ones spirit by being at peace within your own. The greatest compliment to those who lose life is if those they love and leave behind, live life to the full.
Sadness at the loss of a loved one must be expressed.
In the Celtic tradition we very sensibly employed keeners to show the bereaved how to cry, initiate the process.  A wake is a wake up for a family; a sign of life around death. When friends gather; bring gifts of sandwiches and booze, “put on de kettle” distract you from reality, a gathering of community to hold in a time of sadness.
You have to wonder are funeral parlours such a great idea, oh very convenient take care of the detail very efficient, but can you really replace the wake as a truly practical instrument in the grieving process (my old friend Val O’Connor will forgive) but I believe that to be true.
We need an undertaker to supply the hearse, do the paper work, open and close the grave. Nothing more, now funerals are like weddings; the ‘breakfast’ essential! Where are we going with all this show?
I was at a funeral a few years ago, wake at the house, later as the coffin was being lowered a fellow stood out unannounced and said his recently departed friend would never forgive him if he did not, and he sang.
He brought tears to the family as they proudly cheered and clapped their husband and father down.
All so natural, all so healthy, the joy of that man’s life being expressed to his family at that very last moment they would see his mortal remains.
And the extraordinary thing was we all left that graveyard smiling as we did when we departed from that man in life.
A great and fitting tribute to his existence!
Nature’s designs are not accidental; they have evolved through time they have purpose, intent, but convention can sometimes dictate to the detriment of the bereaved, block grieving
I am on a time clock in my life, as we all are,but I have been given an idea when mine will chime for the last time. So life, not death, has become a favourite topic in my house and how we can best fill that life.
Time constriction by death can lead to such an expansion of time use.
Time knows no real measure or weight on the scale of time well spent.
My father died at 69, very unexpectedly, 1975, he was a lovely, lovely, so misunderstood gentle man, full of anger and contradiction, with no real loving space granted to him to express and expunge it within his spirit, so to find peace.
I loved him, still love his memory I can feel his touch, see his smile, his frown, I have so much to thank that soft sensitive man for. But I was 25 then; just at the beginning of being men together, I’d been a teen and a fool till then. I had started a family my daughter, Jill, three months.
I always hugged him, kissed him on the top of his bald pate, much to the irritation of his old fashioned male ego. (I’m the baby at 60, he would be what, 104 had he lived).
But I knew he knew and we both loved it. No real regrets, he knew I loved him; that is enough.
Still, I would love to have had time with him just as a man, given him the space, earned the place of his trust, for him to find space to just tell, if he needed to tell, and to have been an adult friend to dad.
Unexpected death is such a hard thing but also a gift. Dad never suffered. He left us gently, quietly, quickly. You will never, no matter how you try, say all you might have said, with unexpected death!
But we must be content in the knowledge that words pale against action in matters of love.
Now that my clock is slowing down we are in the opposite position in this house. We have time and we have a lot of pain, but love is an overwhelming balm when applied gently.
And I have an abundance of that loving balm from my family and my so many really great friends.
We talk of life now that we know of death. I am sad to tell you I have a few years yet so I hope to still write on into the night as long my fingers can type.
 
Death and pain are on this family’s radar now, somehow they, these two horses are galloping all around us, and yet we are still young, Lizzy Mac and I.
These elements of nature are raging in our extended family and friends. Yet death and pain are powerless in the face of our love for each other.
We know pain and death exist; we cannot ignore them. They are manifestly visible, physical, and open to sight and sense.
Yet love, unexpressed consciously, but oh so at its best when expressed unconsciously, unconditionally, gently, gestures, smiles and a gentle loving touch. The ball of a thumb rubbed gently on a wrist in the quiet of the night a fulcrum powerful enough to the shift the axis of the planet.
A joy, for us all, love given and received.
To be in a position to receive such love, that is the real gift.  Granted self dignity, so as to receive that love.
That is the real privilege of life.
And the true enemy of pain and death!
That love expunges fear, the main weapon of pain and death, replaces it with calm and determination to live all life. (Not to be confused with resignation).
That love drives energy where it has no right to exist; drives energy where its fuel is most essential, deep into our spirit; and with that type of energised spirit we human beings are unconquerable!
Bereavement is a part of life, death is part of life, religion for some is the consolation. I have no need or want of that (absolutely recognise and acknowledge its power to bring peace if you have a calm, and soulful belief in the afterlife). Me, I like to believe that I will live on in the loving thoughts of those that knew and loved me and when they go, my spirit will go with them.
That, I believe, should be enough for any human being, and I am well loved!
I so hope, your life is as full!