Weddings are a splendid ritual for beginnings. Our culture is rich with traditions of what to wear, and eat and say. It is a portal for entering new territory.
But sometimes we are at a loss for ways to recognize endings. Funerals mark the completion of life, and can bring a sense of closure. The goodbye party we had when our family left California was a fabulous splash, and a placeholder for that chunk of our lives.
Currently I am grieving the loss of teaching small children. Lunch bunch and the preschool have been a vivid part of my life for six years, and I will miss them. My own years of mothering toddlers are done, and while I savor reading chapter books with the twins and sitting at an outdoor cafe with my adult daughters, there was nothing to mark the finish line of parenting little ones.
There is an interesting
article about creating rituals for loss. One woman was grieving the deforestation of her childhood home, and found ways to honor the memory. Another group created a funeral for the Appalachian peaks that had been flattened for coal mining. Even elephants appear to pay homage to death.
When relationships end we can feel uncertain. It may be painful to simply slide out the back door, without celebrating what once was whole and holy. This summer I attended a memorial picnic for loved ones who have passed. There were photographs, and sentimental objects, paintings, flowers and music.
When marriages die, or even serious dating relationships, people lose their bearings. I wish we could explore ways to lay those bonds to rest in a way that shows respect for what was once vibrant with life. Perhaps it could be a circle of friends under a full moon, with a fire circle and a chance to recall the blessings. Maybe there are songs that could express mourning, or a process of burying dormant seeds. Perhaps the person grieving could take off old clothes, and be given a bright new robe created by friends. There could be a release of butterflies, or milkweed pods.
Maybe, and I am only wondering, maybe it could ease the pain.
