On the journey home, myself and my traveling companions discussed funeral ceremonies and specifically, the fact that it must be much easier to give a eulogy for someone who is universally liked (or almost universally, surely no-one is liked by absolutely everyone that they come in contact with?) than someone who is loved but not liked by many. My friend's mother was clearly very well liked and very much loved, as are the rest of her family.
In the circumstances that someone is well-liked it is not difficult to say 'a few kind words' that will connect to many of those who have come to say goodbye. However, in the case that a person may not have been the most popular, it is still necessary to take the opportunity to celebrate who that person was and their best features. It is not only the person who has gone who we disrespect if we do not, but also our own relationship with them and our experience of their dying.
Our relationships with one another are often extremely complicated and the emotions that we feel about a person are not always clear cut. I can't help but think that the ceremonies that we create around the passing of another person help us to find our way through what are often labyrinthine emotional circumstances.
It is sometimes difficult to know how to feel when we are angry but also sad, perhaps sorry that we did not make peace with someone before they were gone, but still unforgiving. By taking part in the ceremonies that we practice after someone is gone we find a way to say goodbye and to show respect, even if we cannot still, forgive or forget their actions or ours.
Even in the best of situations, where a person is beloved and dies old and happy, it can be comforting to go through the motions of celebrating their life and marking their death. Religion has created ceremonies that punctuate our lives and that form rites of passage that can help us to navigate our way across the oceans of noise that surround us as we travel this journey.
As I said, I am not a religious person but I can see the value in the Catholic ceremonies, in the practice of habits around the most joyful and the most tragic moments. I am of the belief that there are stages of grief and if in the first few days after we loose someone we are forced to put on a brave face, greet friends and concerned strangers and listen to the same prayers said for someone we love that we have previously heard said for those we were not so very close to, maybe this helps us not only to come to terms with the reality of what has happened but also to accept that we must continue on, surrounded by people who care about us but for whom we must sometimes smile when we don't feel up to it, until we want to smile again.
And again, yesterday, I was reminded of the community aspect of religion. There is great support in the coming together of a group of people, each of whom says: 'this is OUR way to say goodbye and thank you for this person we love'. This is not to exclude anyone else who does not share out traditions, but to find collective expression at a time when many people feel similar feelings (of varying severity) about one person and the loss of them.
In conclusion, religion is 'not my thing', but I am glad that I can fall back upon the habits that were ingrained in childhood and the ceremonies that help in times when otherwise we might not know what to do or how to move forward.
My friend's mother was laid to rest in an idyllic location, looking over water and in the shadow of mist-covered Irish hills. Yesterday it was mystical in the cold, damp weather and I imagined it in summer time, blue and green and fresh and peaceful. I am sure that anyone would be happy there, but particularly someone who feels that this is where they belong.
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