Be a Friend to Man….
Working in the death care industry everyday gives many opportunities for reflection on our thoughts about life and death, both our own and how society views the process. As a Certified Celebrant, I can tell you that it also offers opportunity to reflect on our own mortality, and since I am now in the “second half” of my 60’s, my thought often turn to how I view my own place in the grand order of things.
When I began as a Celebrant about ten years ago, I had no idea the journey it would begin for me on developing my own awareness of our spiritual natures. I began to wonder “What’s next?”. What happens when we die? Is it the end? Is there a continuation of our spirit? Early on, the first book I read on the subject was the wonderful “Life After Life”, by Raymond Moody. That will always be the book I recommend for anyone to start with, if you also wish to start looking at your own views on death. There are many stories I can relate about why I no longer fear death, and why I am confident that our spirit does continue beyond THIS life, but this was one of my early experiences.
I was called to meet with a family who had lost their mother. She was elderly, had led a good life. She had a good relationship with her daughter, and that is who I met with for planning the celebration of this dear woman’s life and years.
We talked, and I had good notes, but one thing that struck me the moment I had entered the room to meet with the family was the mental echo of a poem from my childhood, called, “The House by the Side of the Road”. (Sam Walter Foss 1858–1911) I don’t know why it hit me so hard, but it continued to echo through my mind both through that meeting and all through that Friday afternoon. I knew the poem from childhood, as my Great Grandmother loved it. I came in on Saturday and wrote the bulk of the service, using all the biographical information the family had given me, and then came in on Sunday to do a final edit. Because I felt led to use the poem I had used it as an opening reading, but I wasn’t comfortable with it.
Through all of my edits, I put in the poem, then would find something else I believed fit the narrative better, and I’d take it out. I am so thankful for cut and paste! I must have done that at least 6 times! Monday morning, before I left to go to the chapel on the ground of the funeral home where I work, I took it out, and put in another poem. On the way to the chapel, I had an overwhelming feeling that this was a mistake, so I turned around, ran in and put the poem back in and headed to the service, and then did use it in my opening for the service.
I normally speak briefly with the family after a service, if the opportunity is right, and this woman’s daughter raised my level of concern when she said, “That poem you used. It sounded a bit familiar. I don’t know if I have heard it before, but I guess it seems to fit mom a bit.” So, I instantly regretted that I used it, because her daughter also seemed to wonder why I chose it.
Days passed, and in the mail I got a thank you from the daughter. I was astounded. She said, “I had to tell you that I have been cleaning out my mother’s library. She loved to read. There was a pink post-in sticking out of one of her books, so I wondered what she had marked. I opened it up, and it was THAT POEM! Mom must have really liked that. I’m so glad you used it.”
Mom had indeed wanted that poem, had led me to it, and pounded on me all weekend, mentally, to include that in her story and life celebration. I am so glad I listened. From that day to this, I listen quietly and carefully to where I am led, and I can tell you that the recently departed often lead me to just what their wishes were, in what I am led to include. I am not a Medium, nor do I claim any powers. This instance made me realize that there are voices still to be heard, and spirits right there with us, if we listen. There are more stories for another day. I hope you enjoyed this look into how our loved ones still want to comfort us.
