Co-Euology (2013)
originally posted to Facebook on February 10, 2013
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We said goodbye to Maw Maw last Saturday. It was every bit as difficult as imagined.
I’ve been trying for over a week to wrap my mind around it – much like I did almost a year ago, when my mom’s mom, Grandma, passed away. I've been fortunate enough in not having to deal with these things for so much of my life, I find myself unsure of how to feel, how to respond, and what to do.
I do suppose that it’s common at these times to look for perspective, positives, lessons learned, legacies to further. Of course, in both cases, this has been our family's approach. And there's certainly a large role for faith to play in helping to stunt the blow. In that way, Grandma and Maw Maw are both doing just fine right about now, if you follow. It’s only the rest of us, those left behind, who have to compose ourselves, gather together, and – spoken or not – create some plan for supporting one another for the foreseeable future.
Harder to imagine, perhaps, is how our lost loved ones would ask us to conduct ourselves going forward. It’s impossible to think that the Ego doesn’t appreciate being grieved when the Body departs. But the love of a mother, grandmother, sister and best friend does not ASK us to grieve. Rather, it compels us to take advantage of the perspective gained in loss – a perspective that values the Every Second, and that places an incessant emphasis on developing and nurturing our relationships with family and friends. They’d undoubtedly be the first to tell you that if you’re not laughing, learning, and loving, you’re doing it absolutely wrong (so fix it, post-haste, young man).
Now, far be it from to me speak on behalf of my grandmothers, but I do believe that I knew them well enough to have a grasp on what mattered to them – which, it seems, was the inconvenient problem of having arms not quite long enough to embrace everyone at once.
The Father who presided over my Grandma’s service spoke of her concern, in her final days, of her fellow hospital patients who were without visitors. It was a foreign idea to her, and her heart undoubtedly hurt for them. If you want to discuss Christianity – whether supporter or detractor – I think that’s your number one talking point, right there: compassion. An ailing woman’s compassion for others, taking up stakes in place of her own fears or concerns. And if she bore this much of a compassionate burden over perfect strangers at such imperfect times, how great was her compassion, or her efforts born thereof, for her family and friends? I cannot even imagine, but even if I could, I am not confident we would all recognize it.
Complementary to that was Maw Maw’s subtle-yet-inescapable grin in the presence of her family. Not unlike her father, Maw Maw saw the world through her large family, and it was evident in that grin -- and the accompanying look in her eyes -- that she loved every second of it. It was at once uplifting and laughable, in a way, how calmly and happily she’d display her trademarked smirk as we talked – uplifting in her unconditional support, but laughable how trivial my rants and stories must seem, when contrasted with her unspoken suggestion that only the relationships really mattered.
Prior to the service, I played with my 19-month-old niece as she climbed up and down the two steps outside of the sanctuary. The first time she made it down on her own, she raised her little arms to the Heavens, demanding God’s applause. But as she turned around, her arms fell dramatically to her sides. She frowned once at the stairs, and once at me, as if asking, “What is this? Another challenge? How ever might I persevere?” I smiled back -- so proud of her for making her way down, and thoroughly amused by her concern over climbing two small steps.
But more than anything, I felt my cup running over, so-to-speak, in simply having the opportunity to spend time with her. And I think, for the first time, I truly began to understand Maw Maw’s grin.
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We said goodbye to Maw Maw last Saturday. It was every bit as difficult as imagined.
I’ve been trying for over a week to wrap my mind around it – much like I did almost a year ago, when my mom’s mom, Grandma, passed away. I've been fortunate enough in not having to deal with these things for so much of my life, I find myself unsure of how to feel, how to respond, and what to do.
I do suppose that it’s common at these times to look for perspective, positives, lessons learned, legacies to further. Of course, in both cases, this has been our family's approach. And there's certainly a large role for faith to play in helping to stunt the blow. In that way, Grandma and Maw Maw are both doing just fine right about now, if you follow. It’s only the rest of us, those left behind, who have to compose ourselves, gather together, and – spoken or not – create some plan for supporting one another for the foreseeable future.
Harder to imagine, perhaps, is how our lost loved ones would ask us to conduct ourselves going forward. It’s impossible to think that the Ego doesn’t appreciate being grieved when the Body departs. But the love of a mother, grandmother, sister and best friend does not ASK us to grieve. Rather, it compels us to take advantage of the perspective gained in loss – a perspective that values the Every Second, and that places an incessant emphasis on developing and nurturing our relationships with family and friends. They’d undoubtedly be the first to tell you that if you’re not laughing, learning, and loving, you’re doing it absolutely wrong (so fix it, post-haste, young man).
Now, far be it from to me speak on behalf of my grandmothers, but I do believe that I knew them well enough to have a grasp on what mattered to them – which, it seems, was the inconvenient problem of having arms not quite long enough to embrace everyone at once.
The Father who presided over my Grandma’s service spoke of her concern, in her final days, of her fellow hospital patients who were without visitors. It was a foreign idea to her, and her heart undoubtedly hurt for them. If you want to discuss Christianity – whether supporter or detractor – I think that’s your number one talking point, right there: compassion. An ailing woman’s compassion for others, taking up stakes in place of her own fears or concerns. And if she bore this much of a compassionate burden over perfect strangers at such imperfect times, how great was her compassion, or her efforts born thereof, for her family and friends? I cannot even imagine, but even if I could, I am not confident we would all recognize it.
Complementary to that was Maw Maw’s subtle-yet-inescapable grin in the presence of her family. Not unlike her father, Maw Maw saw the world through her large family, and it was evident in that grin -- and the accompanying look in her eyes -- that she loved every second of it. It was at once uplifting and laughable, in a way, how calmly and happily she’d display her trademarked smirk as we talked – uplifting in her unconditional support, but laughable how trivial my rants and stories must seem, when contrasted with her unspoken suggestion that only the relationships really mattered.
Prior to the service, I played with my 19-month-old niece as she climbed up and down the two steps outside of the sanctuary. The first time she made it down on her own, she raised her little arms to the Heavens, demanding God’s applause. But as she turned around, her arms fell dramatically to her sides. She frowned once at the stairs, and once at me, as if asking, “What is this? Another challenge? How ever might I persevere?” I smiled back -- so proud of her for making her way down, and thoroughly amused by her concern over climbing two small steps.
But more than anything, I felt my cup running over, so-to-speak, in simply having the opportunity to spend time with her. And I think, for the first time, I truly began to understand Maw Maw’s grin.
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