By Sarah York

I
frequently speak with people who say they do not want any services
held when they die. One woman in her 90s told me just after
attending a service for a friend, “That was a really nice service,
Sarah, but I’m not going to have one of those when I die.”
I smiled as I replied, “Eunice, you won’t be in a position to have
much to say about that.”
I went on to tell her that her family would need it and so would
many of us in the congregation, and we would want to hold a
service. She and I have both affectionately retold the story of
this conversation – she to reaffirm her initial desire in spite of
what others do, and I to make the point that the ritual is not for
her but for those who love her, will miss her, and must go on
living without her.
Eunice says that she just doesn’t want anyone to make a fuss over
her, and she means it. I believe that most people who choose to
avoid ritual, however, do so for one of two reasons. Either they do
not want to deal with the emotions that are evoked by death, or
they cannot conceive of a ritual apart from a traditional religious
context that is not relevant for them. In some cases, they may be
very private individuals who have never liked the idea of having
people talk about them “behind their back.”
Whatever the reasons, they are not sufficient. No exceptions. No
matter what the circumstances of a life or a death, there is no
reason not to mark the occasion of death with at least a simple
private ceremony. Thus it is that I always counsel families to
consider, with love, other ways to respect the intent of those who
have requested “no services.” Then we work to create a ceremony
that will honor the person who died while giving the family an
opportunity to celebrate a life and mourn a death.
“Give sorrow words,” Shakespeare admonished. But how do your begin
to think about planning for a ritual if you have no religious
tradition or perhaps even a distaste for ritual in general? If you
are alienated from your faith tradition, how do you draw what is
still meaningful from it and include it in a personalized ritual?
How do you create an appropriate context to “give sorrow words”?
The thought of taking on such a task is daunting enough. Add to
that the fact that many deaths occur suddenly and without warning,
requiring that some of the arrangements be made within a matter of
days.
The fear of taking on the responsibility for a ritual of death may
be the greatest of all obstacles to be overcome. The best way to
overcome the fear, however, is to do it, finding others who will
help. Your confidence comes as you realize that others have done
this and you can, too.
…
What is important is to find the appropriate level of comfort and
participate according to what feels right. Too often participation
of family members is minimal. Opportunites for ritual that will
help them grieve are missed. It is just easier to leave it up to
the professionals – undertakers, ministers, health care workers –
to take care of everything.
Most of what I know about how to create a memorial ritual I learned
when I was thrown into the waters of that first year of ministry.
When I suggest here that a person doesn’t have to be a minister to
do this, I am saying that this is the heart of life; it is where we
all live. This is our spiritual work – to mark our losses and
celebrate our love. It is not the work of funeral directors and
ministers – it is the work of families and friends. We who are the
professionals are there to assist them with their work. It is to
people like Ruth’s daughter and Jane’s friends and family that I
offer gratitude, because they have known that I am just there to
help them do what they have to do.
Through the years, I have learned from many more families. Some of
the rituals we devised grew quite naturally out of the rich soil of
memory. Eleven grandchildren gathers at one memorial, and while the
oldest grandchild read a poem and shared some memories, the other
ten all lit candles. Another family provided flowers at the door of
the sanctuary and invited everyone who entered to take a flower and
put it in a large basket in the front, thus creating a community
bouquet. At the end of the service, each person was invited to take
a flower from the bouquet.
For a woman who had been devoted to world peace, the space was
decorated with international flags.
For a man who died of AIDS, a beautifully crafted panel for the
AIDS Memorial Quilt was on display. Candles were lit in memory of
others who had died of AIDS.
For a woman who had been a poet, a booklet of her poetry was put
together and offered to friends and family who came to the
service.
For a woman who found meaning in Native American traditions, the
service began with an invocation to the four directions and ended
with a Native American benediction.
Form follows function. If we want to celebrate a life, the
possibilities are endless.
Music, of course is a universal medium for ritual. Too many people
neglect to participate in this aspect of a memorial and let a
funeral home select music for them. My experience is that funeral
directors will work with families to give them what they want.
There is no reason for not taking an active role and selecting
music that contributes to the mood and meaning of the service. Bach
may be perfect for one person, the Grateful Dead for another.
Yes, this is that family’s work. If a person thinks to leave behind
some requests and instructions, that makes the family’s work
easier. A member of one congregation, for example, asked for
several selections of Beatles music to be played at her service.
She had written a poem to her family that she wanted me to read.
She left the rest up to us.
If a person doesn’t indicate any particular wishes, however, that
makes the family’s work more meaningful. It invites family members
to talk about what they need to do and what is right. It invites
them to participate – to give sorrow words and music and
gesture.
As they participate, they remember.
As they remember, they grieve.
As they grieve, they love.
Related articles:
•
The Purpose of Grief and Mourning
•
Creatively Coping With Grief
•
What is a Memorial Service?
•
The Value of Reminiscing
Also by Sarah York:
•
Planning a Memorial Service after a Suicide
•
Creating a Caring Space through Prayer
•
Creating Inner Space through Prayer or Meditation
•
The Seasons of Grief
Sarah
York is an author and Unitarian Universalist minister. Her book
Remembering Well: Rituals for Celebrating Life and Mourning
Death
speaks to people
who do not want a religious or spiritual context for ritual as well
as those who do. The book received outstanding reviews from
numerous publications, including Publishers Weekly, USA Today, The
Washington Post, and the American Journal of Hospice and Palliative
Care. Ms. York is semi-retired and is available as a keynote
speaker and workshop presenter on topics related to her
books.
Photo by Luis Carreon/StockXchng