Why You Should Have a Memorial Service

Once again, as I glance down the obituary column, wondering if any familiar names are there, I see a statement that occurs more and more often: "In keeping with Virginia's wishes, there will be no funeral service."

I am deeply disturbed by this trend. Ritual is the way cultures in all times and places have marked significant events in their community. Religious holidays like Christmas and Hanukkah carry traditions that have been around for generations. Babies are often christened or dedicated. We gather to celebrate the marriage of friends. Birthdays call for a cake and candles. Why would we allow the death of a loved one to pass without ceremony?

Rituals are not optional to a healthy culture: they tell us where we've been, they bind us together, they give us courage for the journey.

The ritual of the funeral or the memorial service has several purposes. First of all, it helps mourners recognize the loss as real. Sometimes a body is present at the service, often not, but always we know that we are there to acknowledge that someone has died, and to acknowledge the death not just in fact, but in feeling. We come together to grieve in the presence of a caring community, and for the time of the service we have permission to give ourselves to the experience of loss.

We also gather to celebrate the life that is now gone from us, to recollect and to remember, as in "to make whole again." The service is a way of paying respect to the person who has died, one who has lived perhaps not a perfect life, but like the rest of us, a life full of hope and possibility and struggle. If it is done well, the service will bring at least a partial sense of closure to the void that one feels at these times. The purpose of all ritual is transformation: We come to the service in one state, we leave in another.

The service, then, exists for the living, not for the deceased. Virginia is really not the person to decide whether or not she should have a memorial service — that is for those of us who remain, those who have loved her and lost her. What did she mean to our lives? What part of her legacy lives on with us? How do we wish to remember her? How does her life and death inform our own existence, as we pass through this darkling plain? As we think upon the life of the deceased — its beginning, its course and its ending — we are each led to think of our own lives, and to contemplate questions of mortality and meaning.

But what if Virginia was a difficult person? What if she was a narcissist, who didn't really pay much attention to her children? Or what if she was a raging alcoholic? Do we really want to remember her, to celebrate her life? Yes, we do, just as she was, in all of the various colors of her life. In my experience, problematic persons are the most difficult for the survivors to release in death. These are the mourners who must now give up hope that the loved one will ever change; these are the broken-hearted ones who need to grasp a larger picture of the deceased in order to forgive and move on. A service can sometimes help them move in the direction of healing.

I have asked myself why so many people are now opting out of a funeral or a memorial service. One reason surely must be the embarrassingly bad services we've all been subjected to. Too often the minister takes the service as an opportunity to preach to the numbers of unconverted he suspects may be attending. Or he may not know the deceased, and that lack of knowledge becomes evident in his remarks. Or the minister may attempt to console mourners by telling them that their loved one "is in a better place." This statement sounds hollow to people who are missing the one who died, and certainly is meaningless to those in the congregation who do not believe in an afterlife. It is understandable that many would decide not to have a service rather than risk the emptiness and disrespect they have experienced at other services they have attended.

Some people may decide against a service because they are not particularly religious and do not have anyone they can ask to officiate. But a ritual to mark the end of a life need not be traditionally religious at all. It can be a simple gathering in a space large enough to accommodate those who might wish to be present, whether a public hall or a rented chapel or a home. If an officiant is not known, sometimes friends can suggest one, or the family may decide to structure a simple service themselves. If expense is an issue, or if the attendance is expected to be light, the family might opt to invite only relatives and close friends to a service in a home.

At a service, those attending will experience a "time apart": there may be soft lighting, candles, sage burning, flowers. Music is often an important part of the service, because it offers a ready avenue to the feelings. The same is true of poetry. Some will want to include scripture and prayer. Silence, so rare in our society, allows space for thoughts and feelings to emerge. And stories should be told, for narrative is how we remember and how we are able to continue. Humor always arises, as it is the flip side of grief. We laugh and we cry. We acknowledge that we are a part of the stream of life, and we assert our common humanity. We carry on.

The Rev. Dr. Marilyn Sewell is an accomplished Unitarian Univeralist minister, writer, activist and spiritual leader. She retired from parish ministry in 2009, after serving 17 years as the Senior Minister of the First Unitarian Church of Portland, Ore., and was named Minister Emerita. Marilyn is the subject of a full-length documentary film, "Raw Faith," which recently opened in N.Y. to critical acclaim.

From Write Daniel Asa Rose comes a wonderful way to honour Dad.  And a true gift for both the sender AND the receiver…..

Dear Dad –


Don’t you dare die.  Ever. You’re only 88 and your four middle-aged children need you around as much as ever. It’s different from the way we needed you when we were kids. Now it’s more like, stay in the world ahead of us, OK? Caring from afar. We’re not ready to take the front line all by ourselves.

Do you even have a clue what it was like, your being our Dad?  Just for kicks I’m going to list a few of the memories I’m grateful for.  After all, why wait to extol your most excellent fatherliness for a eulogy you’ll never hear?  Now, when you’re so very much around, I’m going to recite some things you can hear in good health, and perhaps be encouraged to stave off the inevitable a few decades more …

Not to embarrass you, don’t worry.  Be assured that despite this uncharacteristically earnest gesture, I still harbor a boatload of resentments, which I’ll continue to cherish, if you don’t mind.  But perhaps as they approach the end of their duel together, every child should provide his parent with an un-ironic, bare-assed reckoning. So here’s my living eulogy, very much a work in progress …

Thank you, Dad, for letting me greet you as you drove home from work every day, seeing me wave a block away and stopping the car to let me steer the final stretch with you. 

Thank you for always asking if I had enough light to read by, and snapping on an extra light though I told you I was fine.  Thank you for letting my big sister Renee and me float behind the sailboat when you were at the tiller, cautiously playing out the tow rope so we could feel we were getting away with something dangerous. 

To read the rest in Obit Magazine, click here.

Don Morris, the Canadian Director for the Green Burial Council of Canada has moved to Vancouver Island…which kind of makes sense, given the growing interest in natural death of Vancouver Islanders.

The cutting-edge O.U.R.  Eco Village in Shawnigan Lake is becoming more involved in natural death as part of their mandate for sustainability. 

And the mastermind behind many of the wonderful ritualistic programs at Vancouver's Mountainview Cemetery, Paula Jardine is actually and Islander, and is doing more and more creative stuff with Royal Oak, which hosts BC's first dedicated green burial site.

A 3 Day event around creating community connections and support toward natural dying will be held June 24-26.

Click here to see the poster.

Looks absolutely wonderful.

 3

I’m unpacking my stuff from a wedding over the weekend.  One of the most genuine weddings I have ever performed.

Creating the ceremony was an interesting process.  While most of the ceremony came together  easily (I love couples who answer the questions intentionally, and with more than a single sentence), it was the ritual that we struggled with.  And we wanted a ritual. 

Originally, I suggested something based metaphorically on who they are.  That didn’t feel right to them.  We talked about food rituals, because they are both foodies.  But that didn’t really feel like a fit.  She liked the idea of handfasting.  He wasn’t so sure.  But nothing else was coming up.

Then I asked the groom to talk about the rest of the wedding day.  He told me (among other things) that he had just discovered someone who was milling salt from the Pacific Ocean, and that would be the guest favour.

And everything just unfolded beautifully from there.  Now, if you don’t know about salt, in ancient times it was more precious than gold, and used to  “seal the deal” when making agreements.  So we designed a ritual using the Pacific Ocean sea salt, and added  a few elements that made the ritual so so meaningful. 

When the time came in the ceremony, the bride and groom, both seasoned (no pun intended) at speaking in public, just started telling their guests about what they were doing, the significance  I put down my script and listened to them.  It was so real, so authentic.

The picture at the top?  A salt grinder.  A gift from the couple.  Full of the sea salt from the Pacific Ocean.

Beautiful.

My heart is still singing.

Here comes Valentines’ Day, and with it, the media’s messages about how it “should” be celebrated.

I wonder how St Valentine would respond, were he alive today. A few versions of his story exist, I particularly like this one: Valentine was a priest under Emperor Claudius’ rule in third century Rome. The Emperor decreed that single men were better soldiers, and outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine defied him, continued to perform marriages, and was sentenced to death.

While in jail, legend has it, he fell in love with a young girl (some say the jailer’s daughter). Before his death, he signed a letter to her “from your Valentine.”

By the Middle Ages, Valentine was one of the most popular saints, hence many of today’s customs. By the mid-1700’s it was common for people to write handwritten notes espousing affection, not just to lovers, but to friends as well. The Victorian age heralded the ready-made card: “an easy way for people to express their emotions in a time when direct expression of one’s feelings was discouraged.” (Quote courtesy of history.com) Today, Valentine’s Day is the year’s #2 greeting card event  and has been called “the poet’s holiday.”

Most of us aren’t poets. Most of us are handier with the credit card than the pen. But nothing says “I cherish you” more than a handwritten and heartfelt note. Much the same with wedding vows, “the blank page syndrome” looms…wanting to say something both profound and personal and yet bewildered at how to start.

I can help you craft your vows, but Valentine love letters…well, you’re on your own here. But I will offer a few pointers, based on what I’ve learned as a celebrant:  Start where you are. Be yourself.  Be genuine and authentic. Use your own voice…leave the poetry to Hallmark..:)

• Here’s what I cherish most about you
• Here’s what my life is like, thanks to you
• Here’s how important you are to me.

I wonder if that’s what Valentine wrote back in 270 AD…?

I’m in the midst of designing a handfasting ritual for a lovely couple who asked me to describe the photo on my site, and then said: “We want that!”

Handfasting, for many people, popped onto the radar thanks to the 1995 movie Braveheart.  In actual fact, it is perhaps one of the oldest wedding traditions.  In Europe, until the mid 1700’s, few unions were sanctified in a church or synagogue. Rather, they were celebrated by a simple hand fasting ceremony, which often marked the betrothal or engagement period (“a year and a day”).  Sometimes handfasting was used again to finally bind together a couple as husband and wife.

Today, there are a variety of ways to add handfasting into a wedding ceremony:

• A traditional ritual using a single cord, scarf, or piece of fabric that offers a powerful symbol of commitment.

• Beyond the traditional, different cords, colours or keepsakes can be used to speak to what’s meaningful in your relationship.  Your children, parents, or special people who are not part of your wedding party can take an active role in the ritual.

• Handfasting can also be included into your vows, giving you an profound way to make heartfelt promises and to confirm your commitment to each other.

As with many other rituals, the process of creation is so very rich.  What will bind you together as a couple?  It may be very different for you than for others.  To both know and to commit to what is uniquely yours is a mighty statement, both to each other, and in front of those you love.

And all that aside, when someone uses the phrase “tying the knot”, you can respond nonchalantly: “Been there, done that”…!

A wonderful little story I received today.

Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey.. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so she dictated these words:

Dear God,
Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick.

I hope you will play with her.. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her You will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.

Love, Meredith

We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it.. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, ‘To Meredith’ in an unfamiliar hand.. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, ‘When a Pet Dies..’ Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey &Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith,
Abbey arrived safely in heaven.
Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away.
Abbey isn’t sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don’t need our bodies in heaven, I don’t have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by..
Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you.
I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much.
By the way, I’m easy to find, I am wherever there is love.

Love,
God

In the USA, it’s estimated that 1 in 8 weddings are destination weddings.  While exotic locales have their cachet, in some cases your guest list may be shorter than you wish.  Aunt Effie may be unnerved at the idea of staying at a fancy-schmantzy resort. Brother Earl may not be able to take get a week’s vacation to make the trip worthwhile.  Or your best friend may be paying off that last trip she took already.

If that’s the case, consider this recent article Wall Street Journal article describing one of the latest trends in weddings…at a summer camp.  Wedding couples traded expensive trappings for a group holiday filled with bunk beds, campfire stories, and a giant ‘smore instead of a wedding cake.  Paddling away in a canoe, anyone?

No mention of ceremonies created to match the event.  But I can see it now…a unity ritual with roasted marshmallows or a sing-along.  Starting the ceremony with a whistle.  People arriving late or not turning off their cell phones do KP duty…ok, ok, I’m having a little fun here, I’ll stop now.

But the point is, you CAN have anything you want in a wedding.  Just takes a little bit of creative thinking and a sense of adventure. And maybe some bug spray.

The recently opened (and fabulous) movie “Get Low”, is based loosely on the story of Felix Bushaloo Breazeale who in the latter 1930’s decided to hold his funeral in advance so he could “hear his own eulogy.”  An estimated 8-12,000 people attended.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y17Me8uL6mA[/youtube]

The witty film follows the original tale, with a little embellishment for entertainment’s sake.

The Reverend leading the real service commented: “This service is not a bad idea. Much good should come from a service divested of the usual tears and heartaches. It gives us an opportunity to take thought of tomorrow and anticipate the great adventure called death.”

Amen, Reverend.

When Arthur Motyer’s younger sister Jocelyn was in the latter stages of kidney disease, she decided to hold a “living wake”…an afternoon soiree for 60 friends and family members, with the intent of ensuring that her friends knew how much she cared for them, and also to know that she was indeed loved.  As he watched her visiting with the many guests, Motyer realized that his discomfort was his own and that his sister was setting an impressive and courageous example: “I said if she can do it, then I have to.  I wondered if it was in good taste and then I realized that it was actually a wonderful way to go.”  (comments made on CBC’s DNTO)

Lingering diseases such as cancer (now the #1 source of death in Canada) offer a clear and finite ending and the time to prepare for it, to grieve in advance, which can be a very healing process. So an advance wake, funeral, or celebration of life can allow everyone to attend the final farewell.  You, as the guest of honour, get what you want.  It’s clear.  No guessing.  That’s empowering in itself, no matter your role.

For Felix Bush, it was the curiosity of knowing how he was seen by others.

For Jocelyn, it was basking in the love of those she adored, and reflecting it back.

For Pete Peterson, who in mid-June, was told he had 6-8 weeks left, the advance funeral he held on July 31 was to make good-byes easier.  “I know they won’t come to see me when it gets close to the end. I wouldn’t go to see them either. People don’t want to see their friends like that, at those last days. They don’t want to remember them like that. I’m still in pretty good shape, so that’s how I want it to go.”

Jim and Jeanie have spent much of their lives in search of sanctuary. After years in a high-maintenance haven, they found a remarkable gem – the perfect home for their next phase in life. They wanted to celebrate their good fortune.

A house blessing would be the normal ceremony, but it became quickly apparent that there was much more than the house to be appreciated. And there was more than a blessing to be done.

The couple had some specific wants for themselves. To share their story. To stand in wonder at this crossroads, and to appreciate the journey in life that had brought them here. To set some intentions for themselves and for the new house.

And of course, they wanted to celebrate. But they wanted to celebrate with their guests, not in front of them. They wanted their friends and family to be partners in the ceremony.

And so it became, to paraphrase the once famous Buzz Lightyear:  The “To Infinity and Beyond” House Blessing (you can do that when you work with a celebrant…:)

One one hand, the ceremony was full of meaning and symbolism. Summer Solstice, the day of  the ceremony is a day of concentrated energy, a day when people would historically clean out the dross of winter and prepare for the growth and ripening that summer offers. On the other hand, it was pure Jeanie and Jim: relaxed, genuine and heartfelt. And their honoured friends.

And despite the solstice rituals, the powers from above seemed to approve of the evening as well, including the smoke detector and sprinkler system.

Welcome to your new sanctuary, J&J. Make it SO…!