Yesterday my BFF of nearly 30 years and I spent the day at my house revisiting the Memorial Service plans we made in 2006 (type of service, music, flowers, memorials, burial/cremation, etc.) I had typed the whole plan up and stashed it in a file drawer. It was a semi-serious enterprise then, amidst lots of laughter and silliness, mostly meant to create a record of what we'd like so other family members didn't hijack our final hurrah with trappings we most definitely DIDN'T want. For example, my friend didn't want any photos of her sitting around staring at everyone with a forced static smile. I, on the other hand, wanted a full video montage of my life with with a rockin' soundtrack backing. She had some crazy notion then that rose petals strewn up the church aisle would be nice, especially if mixed with sparkly confetti. (WHAT?!?) I had a whole seasonal thing going on, with bright cut flowers for summer and lit greens for winter. We both agree we still will not abide any of those God-awful floral arrangements with the "Loving Mother" or "Beloved Grandmother" banners stretched across a wreath on a wire stand.
Both of my sons were here in the morning, one helping the other move into a new apartment. They thought our get-together yesterday was weird. They shook their heads and smirked at their silly mom and her "bestie" spending a Saturday refining plans for celebrating our deaths. Well, that's because they are in their late 20's, not their mid-60's. The dawn is still at their backs, the sun barely over the horizon. For us, well, that dusky horizon is before us and the sun is getting low in the sky.
Yesterday's enterprise was still an occasion of laughter -- well, whenever she and I are together, it's an occasion for laughter. We find each other infinitely amusing. But it was tinged this time with many more tears. We've had a few more funerals in our lives since 2006, have endured some changes, have gotten older, and the whole topic has taken on a bit more urgency -- or at least seriousness.
I've ditched the Stones in favor of a couple of UU hymns I love (but I'm keeping the video with Jackson Browne's For a Dancer playing in the background). She has given up the rose petals and confetti and isn't even sure if she wants a Service at all. I had thought a nice bookmark for the mourners as a remembrance would be a good parting gift...but gosh, who even reads real books any more? That idea has been scrapped too.
What we both discovered as we went over various parts of the outline we'd created nine years ago, was that there was less extravaganza and more simplicity. Less for others to tend to and more consideration given to making everything as easy on those left behind as possible. Often instead of filling in the blanks on our form with minute details, we just wrote -- "whatever will feel right to the family", "whatever is easiest", etc. etc.
I know now, having created a Memorial Service for my mom in 2008, what details go into making a beautiful service. It was one of the most loving and meaningful things I've ever done and I still remember the initial confusion of many who came and found our non-traditional service surprising, then ultimately moving and deeply meaningful. You don't need a church or clergy to say a prayer, to read a poem, to give a eulogy, to sing a song, to chuckle at a favorite story, to share a life with those who loved the departed. You don't need confetti.
There's something very comforting to me about writing down my final wishes. I so appreciated having in my mother's own handwriting what she preferred, especially since it went so far afield of the traditional funeral rites she (and then I) had grown up with. She wanted to be cremated, no funeral home visitation, no formal church funeral, no potluck "open house" party afterwards. So we created our own Memorial Service, a month after her death, for extended family and a few friends. We gathered her immediate family (children, grandchildren) to bury her urn next to my dad in the shaded corner of an old country cemetery where so many others of my family rest, then the family spent a night socializing together -- the first time in many, many years since we'd all moved from one side of the country to the other. It was a reunion Mom would have rejoiced in seeing.
I am writing my requests down too. But ultimately, like my mom, I just want things to be simple, for my family and friends to remember me with love and care (and a good deal of laughter), and then to live their lives joyfully in connection to each other and the wider world. This is the Age and Stage of facing mortality, of making plans, of watching that horizon grow closer and hoping for a brilliant sunset full of light and hope. ©
At least, that's the view from here...
I have been to 45 (so far) memorials/funerals and there is, in my opinion, no wrong way and probably no "best" way. Making things easier for those left behind can be a very loving gift to them; including the facts of an obituary, and the details/payments of place. I hope to have a memorial in the Marysville church and then a pot-luck picnic at one of the parks along the Stilly river where my ashes may be dropped, flung or scattered. I do have a couple songs in my imaginary "playlist" including "Over the Rainbow" (the Hawaiian version) and "It's My Life" by Bon Jovi. Otherwise, it is up to the ones who remain - and I agree with Jean R...sometimes the one's remaining who need that final "good-bye".
ReplyDeleteI wrote my funeral arrangements down when I was in my mid-40's. Have changed them a bit over time. I think I've finally got it...and not a moment too soon. I think there needs to be a funeral, because family and friends need to get together, and they all need to realize that person is dead--not just visiting somewhere and will appear later. Closure or whatever it's called.
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