New life and death can also be a part of each other… When my grandfather passed away in 2016, my eldest was only four months old. She traveled with me back to Idaho, as I went home to say goodbye to him. When I got there, he was pretty much unresponsive. But when I held my four-month-old baby up to him, he opened his eyes, smiled, and started talking. He ended up remaining with us for another 72 hours, and got to hold her and talk to her one last time.
The beauty of that moment, of the old dear soul responding to the presence of a brand new young one, has stayed with me ever since. There is something beautiful about those lives intertwining, and blessing each other through their shared presence. And perhaps this is the work that women in particular can help facilitate, as we so often care for both the very old and a very young.
That's so beautiful! My dad is 84 and a lot of things have gotten harder for him, physically, but he has such a surge of energy if he's entertaining Beatrice.
The first person who came to mind when Leah asked about "caring for your dead" was a dear, eccentric old mentor of mine from when I was a college student. I made the journey back to the place of my beloved alma mater for his memorial service. (First time back after many years!)
As it happened, my former college roommate had just given birth to her precious daughter... then about ONE month old iirc. I stayed in her home, so in those days, I had one birth and one death constantly on my "mental radar."
Death and new life were intermingled there... maybe not because of anything inherent, but simply "because that was how it happened."
And it was so intense! (though I reckon things were more intense for you... to travel with your own tiny firstborn daughter... and visit your grandfather as he was dying.)
> "the old dear soul responding to the presence of a brand new young one"
I think a powerful way to welcome people who don't easily converse with others is by putting little children in their presence. I've thought this not only for the old, but also for those who "don't automatically fit" - people for whom words in English do not come quickly, and people who have social anxiety or awkwardness. (Sorry if this is me getting a bit far afield from the topic here... maybe I'm just talking about an idea that's caught my attention, b/c this seems like a place where ppl would be interested in it.)
My grandparents weren't embalmed--I think my grandfather decided against it to save money (he also wanted the cheapest coffin available), and we followed the same arrangements for my grandmother when she unexpectedly died shortly afterward. I didn't know not being embalmed was an option before that, but in retrospect I like the decisions they made. I saw them both shortly after their deaths (I'm thankful I was still living near them at that time), and that really was enough. Embalming seems a bit grotesque to me now. It did confuse some people when my grandparents were buried before their official funeral (again, my grandfather's wish), but his plan for the arrangements seems very reasonable, if unorthodox.
(I should add that we did not actually get my grandfather the cheapest coffin. The cheapest looked awful, so we went for the second cheapest, then just got my grandmother the one we thought looked the most appropriate. I'm so grateful to have been able to be present while the arrangements for her were being made. And they were buried in an actual churchyard, although there were restrictions involved in going that route that required their headstone to be in-ground. Which was annoying. We still got the biggest in-ground stone available, though.)
I have been reading about this to learn more. In my small church in Arkansas, we had a bereavement committee and arranged to prepare a meal for the families after the burial. We also encouraged attendance at wakes, visitations and rosary.
New life and death can also be a part of each other… When my grandfather passed away in 2016, my eldest was only four months old. She traveled with me back to Idaho, as I went home to say goodbye to him. When I got there, he was pretty much unresponsive. But when I held my four-month-old baby up to him, he opened his eyes, smiled, and started talking. He ended up remaining with us for another 72 hours, and got to hold her and talk to her one last time.
The beauty of that moment, of the old dear soul responding to the presence of a brand new young one, has stayed with me ever since. There is something beautiful about those lives intertwining, and blessing each other through their shared presence. And perhaps this is the work that women in particular can help facilitate, as we so often care for both the very old and a very young.
That's so beautiful! My dad is 84 and a lot of things have gotten harder for him, physically, but he has such a surge of energy if he's entertaining Beatrice.
The first person who came to mind when Leah asked about "caring for your dead" was a dear, eccentric old mentor of mine from when I was a college student. I made the journey back to the place of my beloved alma mater for his memorial service. (First time back after many years!)
As it happened, my former college roommate had just given birth to her precious daughter... then about ONE month old iirc. I stayed in her home, so in those days, I had one birth and one death constantly on my "mental radar."
Death and new life were intermingled there... maybe not because of anything inherent, but simply "because that was how it happened."
And it was so intense! (though I reckon things were more intense for you... to travel with your own tiny firstborn daughter... and visit your grandfather as he was dying.)
> "the old dear soul responding to the presence of a brand new young one"
I think a powerful way to welcome people who don't easily converse with others is by putting little children in their presence. I've thought this not only for the old, but also for those who "don't automatically fit" - people for whom words in English do not come quickly, and people who have social anxiety or awkwardness. (Sorry if this is me getting a bit far afield from the topic here... maybe I'm just talking about an idea that's caught my attention, b/c this seems like a place where ppl would be interested in it.)
My grandparents weren't embalmed--I think my grandfather decided against it to save money (he also wanted the cheapest coffin available), and we followed the same arrangements for my grandmother when she unexpectedly died shortly afterward. I didn't know not being embalmed was an option before that, but in retrospect I like the decisions they made. I saw them both shortly after their deaths (I'm thankful I was still living near them at that time), and that really was enough. Embalming seems a bit grotesque to me now. It did confuse some people when my grandparents were buried before their official funeral (again, my grandfather's wish), but his plan for the arrangements seems very reasonable, if unorthodox.
(I should add that we did not actually get my grandfather the cheapest coffin. The cheapest looked awful, so we went for the second cheapest, then just got my grandmother the one we thought looked the most appropriate. I'm so grateful to have been able to be present while the arrangements for her were being made. And they were buried in an actual churchyard, although there were restrictions involved in going that route that required their headstone to be in-ground. Which was annoying. We still got the biggest in-ground stone available, though.)
I have been reading about this to learn more. In my small church in Arkansas, we had a bereavement committee and arranged to prepare a meal for the families after the burial. We also encouraged attendance at wakes, visitations and rosary.