BY JOELLEN COLLINS
I spoke this week with a few new friends about the traditions of memorials after the death of a loved one or acquaintance. I am only writing this column now because I am involved in a very beautiful commemoration this week. This will honor the passing of my longest lifetime friend’s husband. I loved him like a brother.
Since I am no longer residing in the Wood River Valley, I have been keeping up with obituaries noting the passings of several people I enjoyed knowing during the forty-two years I lived in Idaho. Last week’s news mentioned the deaths of two friends of mine, one a short-term boyfriend and the other a charming man who shared a love of writing with me. We were simply friends who together could laugh, write, and share our enthusiasm for this area and our neighbors.
While I was discussing this with another resident of my place, she said she just couldn’t understand why we called the gatherings after death “celebrations.” Aren’t they, she said, just gloomy and unnecessary? I have given much thought to that statement as I face recent losses, especially since I am now an “elderly” woman saying goodbye to ones I will not see on earth again. I’ve always hated goodbyes.
Even so, I have concluded that these celebrations are, for the most part, necessary for sharing grief and memories which may ease the mourning somewhat and should not be dismissed as selfish or frivolous. After all, we are joyful at births, the first part of our collective journeys. So why not accept observances of the end of life, with religious/spiritual and often private ways to say “goodbye”?
When I was very little, I attended Salvation Army funerals with my family, who were descendants of members of that faith. I vividly recall the “Hallelujahs” and joy when the cleric would remind guests that the recently departed had been “promoted to glory.” Naturally, there were tears, but also an acceptance of this final phase of life and a belief that our souls survive in the afterlife.
I attended a lovely service In Idaho where, when the congregation departed, we all joined in singing “When the Saints Go Marching In.” We shared smiles with our tears, glad we had been able to spend part of our lives with such a good man.
So, I have come to the conviction that ceremonies, celebrations, commemorations, or (even) funerals are appropriate for the most part. I don’t want mine to happen this minute, but I hope that when I leave this life, I can know that those who liked or loved me will gather and occasionally smile and rejoice in the times we had together in our physical forms. I hope people will be able to laugh at some of the memories. There is nothing better than a sense of humor, something I admire more each day. There’s no reason not to enjoy the shared memories, accept the loss, and celebrate the lives of those passed.