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Last Saturday was Halloween. I watched the revelers pass by in costumes while I waited for friends from church to meet me for dinner. Afterward, we celebrated Halloween by seeing a stage re-enactment of Orson Wells’ War of the Worlds radio drama. It was a great program – very entertaining. And it was also eerily enlightening about how humans face life and mortality when there are people dying nearby.
The next morning was Sunday. I got up and went to church where, as do many UU churches, we celebrated Dia de los Meurtos (The Day of the Dead). There was an altar on the chancel with pictures of loved-ones gone by. It is touching that this service, even in its sadness and grief, had an air of celebration about it. Such a communal event can be an opportunity for us to remember those who have died, but who, in their living, have touched our lives. Their memory is worth celebrating. We might still be grieving their loss, but we may hold open a small place in our heart and mind for the day we can more easily celebrate the joy of having known that special person.
For those of you who are deployed, human mortality may be a close and personal topic. For those of us in the States, the last two weeks have also been sad reminders of our human fragility. There have been several aviation mishaps in recent news – combat, military training, and civilian mishaps. Especially if we are deployed, it may be difficult to find time to allow ourselves the vulnerability of sadness.
Deep, personal loss is an inevitable part of life. The shock of loss may leave us confused. It may seem paradoxical, but eventually we must bring ourselves to both of these places: of honest grief, and of celebration for their life. In both grieving and celebrating, we may need a companion.
In Faith and Service,
Seanan
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