Last Sunday was Easter. How was your week? Your month? Ours has been up and down. Two weeks ago over Palm Sunday weekend we attended the funeral of a dear friend, my age. Friends for 20 years. Is there anything harder than the death of a friend who is our own age? Sudden, no illness. Her husband left a widower without warning. Although my friends and I are mostly past the age of dying young, that was no consolation at the funeral. Nor does it seem to console as we continue to miss her.
Then as Holy week progressed, we spent Good Friday with three grandchildren who had the day off school. They are at the age where fart jokes are THE BEST! Forgive me for mentioning these ridiculous sounds in the same paragraph with Good Friday. But I know everyone remembers this stage. Or is in the midst of this, with nieces, nephews, children or grandchildren. One grandchild found great obnoxious-sound-makers for the others. The pièce de résistance of the Easter Baskets. And of course Alexa, the far-field voice control genius, is the wonder woman of disgusting noises and follow-up descriptive comments. We listened to her while we played card games, doubled over with laughter. A silly day. Then we hit the road. I hope the children settled down for their evening service.
 |
| Pieta, Michelangelo |
Good Friday for us usually culminates in a Tenebrae Service of Darkness where the candles are extinguished one by one until only the Christ candle is left. It too is removed and a loud noise of a book slamming shut follows. Everyone leaves in silence. But this year we shared a lovely Seder celebrating Jewish Passover at the home of friends. We learned how to repeat longer and longer incantations in one breath. We drank 4 mandated cups of wine--how relaxing is that? We welcomed Elijah. We all felt so uplifted. Then . . . .
On Easter Saturday we received word that another dear friend has breast cancer. Found in a routine mammogram. She saw the radiologist yesterday and will see the surgeon next week. Later the same day another beloved grandpa in the family was rushed to the ER. He spent his Easter in the ICU. Three stents and angioplasty for a heart that had seemed perfectly fine.
So Easter is about dying and rising and I feel like that is what we do. At the funeral of our friend her young granddaughter honored us with her beautiful God-given voice singing "And He will raise you up on eagles' wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you to shine like the sun. And hold you in the palm of His hand." ♬ I hope you know the melody.
The Seder was the perfect segue into the Resurrection. Easter we spent alone with church, brunch and a day outdoors.
Isn't life like this? We have wonderful times then a reminder triggers something sad, a disappointment or grief. Right in the midst of happiness. Or the other way around. We're stuck in an involuntary repetitive thought when something lovely intervenes, something simple like a fragrance or the sight of spring blooms or a boy with his dog.
I am not a philosopher or theologian. I have no moral or wisdom to offer. I am just an observer. But I see dying and rising everywhere. In our love for one another. In nature. In our goals and dreams. In our health. In the poetry I read. And this week in Easter. Do you see it too? With blessings for us all, Nina Naomi
No comments:
Post a Comment