By potential I mean a chance for us to go so deep within ourselves that, in spite of re-emerging from our grief cocoon bruised, battered and alone, we are also given an opportunity to see life with new eyes. I wasn't sure how I was going to explain this to you, but luckily someone else in my profession feels the same way and has expressed it far more eloquently than I could have. I came across this article by Richard Wright, a bereavement counsellor in Sydney, Australia, on the internet recently. So I hope he doesn't mind me sharing this meaningful extract with you. Take it away Richard...
"Could I say to them that their love for this woman and the sadness at her dying were part of her legacy. Forget the will. This love and sadness were taking them into places in their hearts they had not been before. Memories of their mother and grandmother’s compassion, impatience, golf games, generosity, quirkiness . . . person were tunnelling into their being. There was a real chance that there would be more room in their lives, in their sympathies, in their understanding because they had known grief. Or, not. Of course, I did not say this to the family. But I thought it and I believed it. Grief has that potential. It doesn’t always work this miracle but it is only grief that can do this for us. There is something about loss that can diminish and enrich at the same time. It is happening all the time. Leaves at Autumn, friends at trains, good-byes galore and those ideas and hopes wrenched from our clutching hands, with frustration and tears. 'Lacrimae rerum' – the tearfulness of things – was how the Latins used to put it. Maybe, just maybe, that tearfulness, wherever and for whomsoever, may help us become a little more tolerant, a little more compassionate, a little more human. At least that is my hope." Richard White is bereavement counsellor at W. N. Bull Funeral Directors in Sydney.
Grief... the final frontier? I'm visiting a family tomorrow whose 45-year-old son died suddenly on Christmas Day. Any thoughts on 'the potential of grief' may be one step too far for them. Understandably so. American activist and singer, Bernice Johnson Reagon, said "Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you, they're supposed to help you discover who you are." Death is clearly the ultimate 'challenge' and I'm not being flippant or trying to take an 'every cloud...' approach. It's just a thought-provoking, hopeful observation. Perhaps it's about coming full circle – when someone dies we lose interest in life, but it's death that makes life worth living, isn't it?
Hello, and a Happy New Year, Comfort Blanket (may I call you CB?)Charles of "Good Funeral Guide" notoriety put me on to you, for which, thanks to him.I'm a funeral celebrant like you, and also like you, I work anonymously (but with a deliberately daft nom-de-plume)to protect confidentiality and because I really hate the idea that anyone would think I was hanging out on the net for more "business."
ReplyDeleteBut really, all I wanted to say was that your blog looks to me like the Right Stuff, I'm looking forward to reading more of it. Your comments above, about grief, are very insightful, and I think I feel much like you about the job. I generally say to people who ask that ours isn't a depressing job - very sad sometimes, yes, and wearing if there's too much of it all at once - but actually it's a liberating sort of job, far as I can see.
Thanks. The whole confort blanket idea is very promising! Power to your keyboard.
Further to above: so maybe grief can be seen as a final gift from those we love, because it takes us to new places, shows us higher things, truer things. It's not a gift they had any choice over giving to us - except that's not true because if we didn't love them then we wouldn't feel the same. Sorry, it's getting late and I'm musing all over your blog - but this is a valuable insight,and Mr White is eloquently helpful.
ReplyDeleteStrangely enough, I've a funeral for a family I visited earlier this week; their son, just a little older than the man whose family you are visiting, died on Christmas Eve. Your excellent post prompts me think harder and more clearly about the nature of their grief. I wonder if you are visiting them as a bereavement counsellor, or as a funeral celebrant, or both?
Sorry GM... I've only just seen this additional comment you kindly posted. I'm so overwhelmed by all the great contributions you, and everyone else, have been adding to my blog recently, that I've not been able to keep up with responses!
ReplyDeleteBut to answer you question - it was as a funeral celebrant. And I love your comment about grief being a final gift from those we love. Beautiful....