On the second anniversary of my father’s death
Let us not delude ourselves with platitudes
The end of suffering
Heaven’s aching need for another angel
Burdens lifted from the living
Joyous reunion
No, let us not delude ourselves
Death is a brute, a thief
Who takes from us those we hold most precious
Time and distance may separate us
From the beating heart of a dear one
But that heart still beats
That love is still tangible
In the warmth of flesh
In touch and embrace
Needing only to be reunited
If only briefly
But death rips that away
Stills that beating heart
Chills that once vibrant flesh
Erases the gentle smile
On that familiar face
Death is an ogre
One whose features are not softened
By familiarity or frequency of visit
Remorseless, it intrudes
With shuddering suddenness
Or lingering expectancy
Memory, the cruel consoler
Delivers images of both joy and remorse
Days of burnished beauty
Words that could not be unspoken
The faith core within
Affirming that death is not the end
That ultimately even death will be conquered
Is still assailed, battered by the loss
The carnage of shattered souls
Longing
For one last word
One brief smile
One final embrace
Let us not delude ourselves
For us, the living
Dark days will alternate with bright
The vivid image of a loved face dims
Some memories fade
While others remain deeply etched
Roiling through the mind
And heart
Bringing an unexpected, fleeting smile
Or a wistful moment of melancholy
Let us not delude ourselves
There can be no loss lest first there be love
On All Saints Sunday
For each name intoned
A single votive is lit
A single bell is tolled
Resonant, the solemn peal diminishes as
Another name is intoned
Another votive is lit
The long litany of names
Each another life
Severed from this world
In this last year
Leaving its wake
Of love and sorrow
Laughter and regret
Wistful smiles and soft sighs
The entire arcing panoply
Of human feeling
Congregants stand in serried ranks
Solemn array of bowed heads
The soft sheen of tears on cheeks
A quivering lip or shudder
A too firm grip on a pew as
Another name is intoned
Another votive is lit
Fresh grief released or stifled as
Their lost one’s name is uttered
Old anguish renewed as
A loved name or face from last year’s list
Or the year before or the year before that
Rises unbidden but embraced as
Another name is intoned
Another votive is lit
A fellow mourner’s comforting touch or
Firm arm around a shaking shoulder
The questioning face of
An uncomprehending child
Who somehow senses something amiss as
The last name is intoned
The last votive is lit
Then the other litany
The litany of faith and triumph
The surety of the resurrection of the body
And reunion
Why else conquer death or
Resurrect the body or
Preserve all the things
Body and mind and spirit that
Make each of us ourselves
Except we should praise
Each in our own distinct voice
Arrayed about the throne of the Almighty
Heaven and earth reconciled
See the Lord and each one gone before face to face
And rejoice