Four years ago my dad died at the age of 84. It was a freak accident. He died of cardiac arrest due to electrocution. He was trying to put out a fire in a neighbor's yard. The neighbor was not home and the fire burned within feet of the house. It was after the severe ice storm that had hit a couple of days before and the power was still out. My mom after seeing my dad charge through the bushes in our backyard with a hose and then hearing an electrical zap had to run (she's 73) to The Other Store around the corner to call for help. A young black man who was a first time customer in the store rushed with my mom back to where my dad lay and gave him mouth to mouth. Not sure if my dad was alive as a stranger put his lips to his to whisper life. Can't remember his name. The others put out the fire and EMS showed up. I had 7 missed calls when I got out of a performance that just happened to be down the street from the scene. My mother's dear voice trembling with the words, "Your dad is on the way to the hospital,... Providence" was the first message, them my brother's, then my mother again then my sister in law.....
He was not alive when I got to the hospital.
Then began the motions and rituals and tasks of burying the dead and honoring a life.
The young black guy, good samaritan showed up at the house later that day and sat with us in a bit of a daze to try and comprehend what had happened. Wish I could remember his name.
My dad was a dear, humble and most loving man. He lived a full life and we look back at the manner in which he moved on as a blessing. It was quick but shocking (ba doom boon) and seemingly with little suffering. Although I certainly can't say that he didn't suffer, I don't know but I'm sure it doesn't matter much to him now.
On the 4th anniversary of my Dad's death, my daughter's boyfriend's mother died. She had been diagnosed several months earlier with brain and spinal cancer.
Heart wrenching to say the least.
That family loves that woman and she loved them intensely.
We attended her funeral in the small town of Granitville, SC
A couple hundred of the community and family members were at the viewing as well as the funeral service the next day. The funeral was held at a small pentacostal church. Open casket and lots of unabashed weeping. It was clear that their faith was the rock on which they stand. She was greatly loved by many and her family will no doubt struggle with their loss for a long time. They had several incredibly intense and really heavy months with her before she moved on.
A couple of weeks later a friend's grandfather died. They are from Pakistan and Muslim in their faith. I didn't attend the service. It was segregated as are most of their gatherings so I just went to the house after the official services. I was the first one there and the cars began to pull up and out poured women in their traditional dress with head wraps and men that mostly ignored me except for a few really sweet, smart, charming men that I had the pleasure of briefly speaking with and my friend's dad & brother. There were a bunch of Muslims in that house! I was the only "white" girl. Course, that's the way I prefer it. Everyone was lovely and gracious and I found the few hours I was there to be delightful and interesting despite the purpose of the gathering. I think most of the tear ducks were dried out for the moment although you could feel that that may change with the right word or embrace quickly. Looking in on the grandmother who was surrounded by a flock of mothers and daughters and sisters and aunts you Know those women have done some weeping for this man. My friend is not a practicing Muslim and is certainly the rabble rouser in the group often challenging some of the traditions of his family's culture and religion.
I overheard him telling one of his younger cousins to stop calling someone "white kid" that it was not appropriate and he didn't want to hear him say that again. My friend is passionate about the rights of all humans. Thank God.
Some of the contrast and similarities of the two events:
Penecostal
Open casket and viewing - dressed in gown with photos of family - lovely, revered, at peace
Short church service the next day, open casket, lots of verbal "amens" hand raising and supportive comments during service, open weeping, music and singing from pastor, travel to gravesite where family sits under tent and a few words are said - casket was lowered after family had left.
Return to church for big meal prepared by church folks - fried chicken, ham, barbque, cream corn, rice, potatoe salad, dressing, green beans, rolls, slaw, banana pudding, chocolate cake, brownies and cookies and of course sweet tea- everyone eats together - young people segregate themselves.
Spirits are up but as people disperse the mood turns down a bit.
Everyone was very gracious and hospitable, commenting on her life and all the good she did. She and her family are well loved.
Muslim
Although I didn't attend the services this is what my friend said it was like.
Men wash the body and wrap in cloth with hole cut for face ( he had a natural smile on his face when he passed- no casket, buried in ground - my friend stood in the grave and lowered the body into the ground.
Back to the house family and friends pour in and they seem to keep coming for a couple of hours. The women prepare the food. Naan, (flat bread) rice that is deliciously spiced, some kind of beef or maybe lamb stew and a chickpea and potatoe dish, hot tea and carnation milk. The men eat first and then the women.
No one seems to mind this much except for my friend and maybe one other family member that is a Christian.
Segregation of men and women usually happens naturally in other cultures too if you think about it.
At 4:00 in the afternoon a space is cleared in the living room and the men lay out mats for prayers. One gentleman starts to sing and then they are on their knees bowing and praying. The numbers of praying folks grow in a few minutes so that the living room floor is filled with bowing Muslims. Don't know what they are saying but I think it is honoring "Daddy" Faiz - People LOVE HIM!!!
This man was loved dearly and the conversations about his life continue throughout my visit.
3 Passings. Lots more to come.
When I pass - know that it is not the end but a beginning of something new and challenging I'm sure.
That I am sure of.
