Death reveals so much about people. Uncle John, Aunt Beulah, Cousin Mary and dem can make you shake your head in dismay as they argue over who did what for whom or who should get what or who didn’t do this or that. Some clenching their fists while others clutching their Bibles. My mom use to say that she wasn’t gonna leave a lot of life insurance money for family to fight over. Many a family has been torn apart at the death of a loved one. I don’t know all that went on behind the scenes but what I saw at my cousin’s funeral was endearing and impacted me deeply.
I saw love personified. My cousin was an only child and adopted. I think he struggled with that more than I knew. When my cousin’s father died, I was afraid that he would feel orphaned and disconnected. That’s the reason I had to get to him. For various reasons, many of the family I knew couldn’t make it to the wake. I’m glad I did. That within itself was Divine favor as we had driven for three hours all over Roxboro and beyond and were about to give up when an angel in the form of a man at a gas station gave us clear directions.
Since that time, as God would have it, his cousins V and T devoted themselves to his care and provided him with a sense of family and connection that he had longed for since his mother’s death and probably even before. What a gift. It was astounding to me the sacrifices they made even in his death.
They say that love is in the details. Symbolic of it was the fact that his cousins bought him a brand new suit to be buried in. “New clothes for his new home,” V said, "down to his underwear." To most folks this sounds ludicrous. Everyone knows that you can’t take anything material to the other side. But again, it wasn’t about reasoning or rationality, it was about care and love.
Even at the graveside, when everyone else left, his cousins stayed the limo driver and told the grave attendants they didn’t want to leave his casket sitting on slats to be buried later. Seeing their resolve, I, my son and my mom stayed as well. It was like no other burial I had ever witnessed. The vault was placed over the casket and secured. The grave attendants then chained the vault and it was lifted by a bulldozer while they removed the slats. They then careful navigated the unit into the ground. Once it was lowered, dirt was added and the green grass-looking tarp was put on top.
What was most striking to me was his cousin T. He stood watch with unwavering commitment until every detail was done. He didn’t move. It was cold. He stood there. It was a laborious process. He stood there. He didn’t move from his spot. It reminded me of the military where one soldier salutes a fallen comrade. Oh my God, how moving it was. I only hope that when I die, someone will want to make sure that even my remains are handled with such care. V said it was the norm for them to pull the covers up over him when he was unable to do it himself. As they tucked him in securely in life, they tucked him in securely in death. Again, love is in the details.
As I remember the funeral and the emotional ups and downs of the past week, I have asked that I become a better person, a better friend, a better human being. I’ve tried to remember the countless moments of awareness, of evaluation and of a greater understanding of life, people and love. They are glimmers at first but as we move through grief to surrender, those moments become building blocks for the new normal we have to build. A normal where you will carry your loved one in your heart and are inspired to be better for it.
Even for those who don’t believe in God or tend to place their hopes in their own abilities, life has a way of bringing you to a point of reckoning. You’ll either get up more conscious of who you are or you’ll slip further down into despair and allow your pain to drive you further from who you were meant to be. I believe that coming-to-yourself is that spiritual part of you asserting itself. And even in the darkest of nights or the most harrowing of circumstances, He will reveal Himself as a voice or a flicker of light when it’s time. Some call Him the indomitable human spirit. I call him the Holy Spirit. He counsels and enables and helps you when, in your ability, you simply can’t do it on your own.
I know that death is intimidating for most--myself included. The Bible calls it an enemy. It takes something precious and leaves you with loss. Some folks who are uncomfortable with grief will try to divert you by quoting scriptures or rationalizing the death in some way. I don’t want to be like that. Grief is the byproduct of loving someone. There is no way to make it better. All we can do is be with. There is power in being with. There is healing in being with. One person's humanity can touch another's. When someone sees you, hears you and shows you that you matter, that’s the highest form of validation. And accepting it from whomever, whenever is humility.
It saddens me that our society pushes you to just get over stuff. And we confuse being able to function to being over it but it shows up in other ways. It shows up in us becoming overly critical or touchy. It shows up in broken relationships and broken trusts. It shows up in stomachaches, headaches, muscle aches and other aches. It shows up in workaholism, alcoholism, and other isms. It shows up in the egoic need to control other people, places and things. It shows up in extreme and risqué behaviors. If you peel that banana back it traces back to something undervalued by others or unresolved. Some root of bitterness, disappointment, hurt or pain.
Yes, I know that I must keep living – in fact, I want to keep living – and that’s the key. To live. To not be eaten up by grief. To not be consumed by anger. To not let the pain fester but lead us to something sacred within us. To live is to not abandon the moment be it pleasant or painful. To live in it, trusting that you will live through it. To be as honest and pure as a little child when they are sad. To trust your Wiser Self, that Greater Consciousness, that Divine Awareness whom I call God to watch out for you. To know when you need to cry and when you need to laugh. To know when it’s time to cling and when it’s time to let go. If you stay present, life will expose to you some treasure locked inside that you never ever knew was there. I want to come out of this better and I trust God to make all things beautiful in His time.
