Celebrating Life
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. A time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot”
On the day my oldest daughter was born, my husband’s uncle died. Four days after my mother died, a friend of my daughters delivered a healthy baby boy. Every second of every day, two people die, and four babies are born.
Last week we held a celebration of life for my mother and yesterday we hosted a baby shower for my oldest daughter.
Last Saturday was a rainy, windy day as we held a small family-only celebration of life for my mother at our island home. We have a pond on our property frequently visited by kingfishers, ducks, cedar waxwings, goldfinches, and the occasional heron. Deer will sometimes nestle down in the tall grass behind the pond. Once we saw a muskrat burrowing nearby. My parents always loved the wildlife around the pond. They lived in our island house for a number of years and they could often be found sitting quietly by the pond. My father’s ashes were put in the pond eleven years ago when he died. My mother has always wanted to join my father. Last Saturday we stood around the pond, roses in hand, as we watched my mother’s decomposable urn float to the middle of the pond and then slowly slip under the water. The rain held off briefly as we stood there in silence.
We then settled around the fire pit, keeping dry under tarps, eating, drinking, talking, laughing, and crying. Mom always enjoyed a glass of good scotch and we toasted her with a sip of Laphroaig. The day was all I had hoped it would be and more.
My daughter is due in 4 weeks. She is beautiful in her pregnancy. Other than not sleeping well because of the discomfort of a large belly and boisterous baby, she has had a healthy, comfortable pregnancy. Yesterday afternoon a gathering of women met at a Vancouver pub for a baby shower. We chose a pub because restrictions around in-home gatherings were still limiting when we began planning. But honestly, a pub is a fitting location for our family as we love draft beer and the atmosphere of local pubs. In March 2020 we hosted an engagement party for my daughter and her partner at this same pub - on the day pandemic restrictions were first announced. It was the last day we were able to get together and hug. Last week restrictions regarding mingling in restaurants and pubs were lifted. The baby shower was, for most of us, the first time we had mingled and hugged in many months. We sipped wine, enjoyed appetizers and Lucky’s donuts, and played games. Baby showers - and games - have changed since I was young. One game involved deciding whether photos of bellies were beer bellies or pregnant bellies. Another showed women in labor or, as my younger daughter explained, climaxing in a porn movie. This was met with some giggles and gasps from older guests. These were not the types of games played at my baby shower – these were much more fun! And no opening presents while everyone sat around, insert sigh of relief! We laughed, we told stories, and there were a few tears. My younger daughter did an amazing job coordinating this shower and there was very little I needed to do. The day was all I had hoped it would be and more.
Two distinctly different events – one, a celebration of a life lived, and the other a celebration of new life. Yet I am struck by the similarities between the two celebrations.
Celebrating Together
“Grief has never been private; it has always been communal. Subconsciously, we are awaiting the presence of others, before we can feel safe enough to drop to our knees on the holy ground of sorrow.” – Francis Weller
I needed to be with others to be able to lay my grief to rest. I was emotionally exhausted after the celebration of life for my mother, and yet I also felt a deep feeling of peace. I am feeling emotionally exhausted again today but in a different way. The arrival of this grandbaby did not feel real until we gathered yesterday and shared our love for these prospective parents and baby-to-be. My daughter’s partner sent a message this morning stating, “…Absolutely blown away by all the love and gifts we've been showered with over the last few weeks. This babe will have a hell of a village to help raise her!”
Laughter and Tears
My mother was an obstinate woman and lived life on her own terms. When we placed my father’s ashes in the pond, he sank quickly to the bottom as if not wanting to be a bother. But my mother’s ashes drifted to the middle of the pond and then floated there, and floated, and continued to float. How long do we have to wait, I thought to myself? And then I wanted to say aloud; she is leaving us on her own terms - when she is ready. I did not share these thoughts because while I know my comment would mostly be met with laughter, some there might have been offended. But I know my mother would have laughed!
My oldest daughter is one of the youngest cousins on my husband’s side of the family. Yesterday we celebrated one of the babies of the family now having her own baby. No grandparents are left to celebrate with us. It is a happy but emotional time. My sister-in-law presented my daughter with a quilt that my mother had started and my sister-in-law had finished. This was given to her with a homemade baby card my mother had stitched before her death. My daughter and her partner both cried. Laughter while grieving and tears while celebrating accompany laughter while celebrating and tears while grieving.
The Power of Stories
And whether we are grieving the end of a life or celebrating the beginning of a new life, stories are shared. Some stories have been shared time and time again, others are new to some of the listeners. Stories keep our memories alive.
“The beauty and preciousness of life is intimately linked with its fragility and mortality. We can experience that every day—when we take a flower in our hands, when we see a butterfly dance in the air, when we caress a little baby. Fragility and giftedness are both there, and our joy is connected with both.” – Henri Nouwen