Death is a monkey

Her husband died not too long ago.  I met her recently and we chatted briefly.  “How are things going?” I asked.  “Some days good and some bad”, she replied.  “Which type today?”  She looked at me and said “Death is a monkey.”

I knew what she meant. Over the weekend we had three Cemetery Masses in the parish.  It never ceases to encourage and move me when I see how people respond to these Masses.  Travelling from near and far, word shared by word of mouth, text, email – whatever – with friend and family members away, brings people in their hundreds to stand on the ground where their loved ones are buried so that a prayer may be offered and remembrance be assured..  It is a very special gathering in any parish and, as I say, our parish had three of them this weekend and one more next weekend.  Death is a monkey.

It leaves us bruised and saddened and the journey of grief is unique and personal.  What is common however, is the sense of helplessness we face in making the journey – the often unwelcome and uninvited journey through grief.

Maybe I might include some of the thoughts shared at the weekend.

Shortly after my mother died, nearly ten years ago now, I had a phonecall from a classmate and friend in Belfast.  He had been unable to attend the funeral and called me to sympathise.  His own mother died many years ago and he told me, during our conversation, that for months after her death, he woke up every morning thinking about her.  No matter how well he slept, or how good things were going or what the day had to bring, she was the first thing on his mind.  He grew accustomed to this, accepted it but above all, noticed it.  Then, he told me, one morning he woke up and, without realising it until much later in the day, he hadn’t thought of her.  Initially he felt guilty but later came to realise that this day was part of the grieving process.  Needless to say, he had not forgotten about his mother but somehow he was able to wake from sleep and face the day, without her being the first thing thought of.  He saw this as an important day and, without saying any more to me, he was offering me some re-assurance.  Later, I came to realise more fully what he meant and why he had shared this with me.

The day we can begin the day without feeling burdened by grief is a day to look forward to and welcome.  It is not a day of moving on or forgetting but more a day of acceptance.  It is a necessary day and one that, in many ways, our loved ones would want.  Those who loved us in life, would not wish to see us forever trapped in grief or uncertainty.  Just as they rejoiced in our happiness during their lives, surely they would rejoice from their place in eternity.

Yes, death is a monkey – but we have what it takes to find peace of mind and contentment.  There is no saying for sure when and how that comes but, I believe it is the gift of those gone before us and they rejoice in our being able to accept and open that gift.

Wherever you are on the journey …. God bless and guide you.