Funerals and Weddings

     How odd that this story started with the story of a funeral, and now at the beginning of the journey I am having a week of funerals. In some wild way I seem to re-living parts of the first wedding, with the chance to make different choices.
     Today I attended the Catholic funeral of a friend's mother, who was clearly much loved and who was a model of a life well lived. She had adventures and loved fully. She touched her many children, grandchildren and great grandchildren in memorable and loving ways.
     The rituals, words and theology were different, but the intention was the same. We honor those who have passed by promising to remember them. We affirm that there is some sense of life beyond our daily experience. We assure each other that the spirits of those who have passed will be with us at our joyous occasions.
     We gravitate to the children at a funeral, so happy to see life renewing itself. We hug the engaged couple, so happy that life cycles will continue. And yet we are wonder how the world around us can keep moving when we have suffered such a loss. I remember looking at the LA freeway on the way to bury my father wondering how all these people could be going somewhere when I had such a hole in my hear.
     In the Jewish tradition we encourage the mourners to grieve. We do not talk with them until they are ready to talk. We help them rip their clothes, the sound of which often helps them cry. We bring food and say prayers and create a sacred space for grief. We postpone joyous occasions until a minimal time of mourning has passed. The family will often sit "shiva" for seven days, staying home and not venturing out into the world. The community will bring food and come for prayers. They can be alone if they wish. They do not talk if they do not want to. They do not entertain the visitors. They are immersed in the sacredness of mourning.
     And yet my joyous occasion, my wedding went on (almost) as scheduled. My father ordered it. He told us that no matter what happened, i was supposed to get married. My grandmother did not believe in the "old ways" and expected my mother to have coffee and food ready for the visitors. There was no room for my grief, in fact it was barely allowed. So in my grief I still had to honor my father's wishes and get married.
     This time I intend to cry at funerals before I laugh and dance at any weddings. I intend to let my emotions flow without holding them "appropriately" in check. I want to model the life I heard about so vividly today and live a live fully. I want to live a life worth exmaining and singing about. From grief to joy, from tears to laughter, from funerals to weddings, I intend to have a year of fullness and life.