CENTRE COUNTY — At a recent grief education and support gathering I cofacilitated, we invited participants to write letters to their deceased loved ones. Then, if they wanted to, they could share their letters with the group. Several did, and the room fell silent as these group members read. Thank you’s were spoken, longings were expressed and tears were shed.
Some described reading their letters aloud as being harder than they expected, as well as more freeing. We were all in a sacred space together. As Oscar Wilde wrote, “Where there is sorrow, there is holy ground. Some day you will realize what that means. You will know nothing of life till you do.”
This group knew of life — they intimately understood life and death with its accompanying grief. I’m continually amazed at the depth of the sorrows and the heights of joy we as humans can reach, sometimes within the same moments.
After the last letter was read, I said to the group, “Now we dance.” Their expressions ranged from disbelief to disdain. I invited them to turn their chairs away from the center table, close their eyes and let their arms dance to the music. I started to play the “Mama Mia” version of “Dancing Queen,” and before long, many of us were singing along. I couldn’t see how many arms were dancing because my back was to the group and my eyes were closed, but I could feel the joy. We were holding both the sorrow and the joy together.
Earlier in this grief support series, each participant chose a heart stone. On one side of the stone, they wrote their own name and on the other side, their deceased loved ones. When a person dies, the phrase “they’ve gone to the other side” is often used. This heart stone represents that phrase, while also representing that our hearts hold both ourselves and our loved ones.
So much of our world is about either/or. But healing and becoming whole is much more about both/and. The continuing bonds theory encourages people to have a relationship with their ancestors, albeit a different one from when they were living. The love in our hearts can hold both us and them.
One representation of this that speaks to me is the vesica piscis. This is the almond or double-convex shape that results when two identical circles overlap and the center of each circle lies on the circumference of the other. For me, this symbol shows how two different concepts can exist in the same space together. Such as the living and the dead, grief and gratitude, masculine and feminine, light and dark, ego and soul, etc.
Our hearts are like the vesica piscis. They can hold in love what may seem like opposites. One of the causes of suffering is the feeling of being separated or divided, and holding these opposites together with love can help diminish that feeling.
Speaking of love might make you uncomfortable. Outside of religious institutions, we don’t use that word in community spaces very often. In fact, we have to be very careful how we use it in our world. But the kind of love I’m talking about is what many have labeled a basic human need — the need to love and be loved.
Nowhere is that need greater than when someone dies. This is a time of feeling separated and uncertain about what to do with the love for the person who is no longer here in their body, and what to do about the love we are no longer receiving from that person.
I just counted and I’ve now been a part of almost 200 gatherings where people have taken that love and held it while also holding the fear of what lies ahead. Taken the sorrow of what they’ve lost while also holding the joy of what they had. Taken the darkness of uncertainty while also holding the light of what remains. I’ve cocreated, written, facilitated and officiated at funerals, memorial services, celebrations of life and remembrance circles with groups of hundreds to intimate circles of 10.
Like the grief support group that experienced the sorrow and the joy, these gatherings have held many opposites together, resulting in healing, beauty and a sense of belonging in a new way. As Rumi wrote in his poem, “The Guest House:”
“This being human is a guest house./ Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,/ some momentary awareness comes/ as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!/ Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,/ who violently sweep your house/ empty of its furniture,/ still, treat each guest honorably./ He may be clearing you out/ for some new delight …”
You are invited to join Koch Funeral Home’s community outreach gatherings to continue this and have other discussions:
- The Alchemy of Equus on Friday, June 27, from 9:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. at Buffalo Run Farm, 2929 Buffalo Run Road, Bellefonte.
- Virtual Monday’s Moments Gatherings, “Belonging in a New Way” on Monday, July 7, from noon to 1:30 p.m. on Zoom.
- Med-Knit-ations: Knitting Our Hearts Back Together in Partnership with Centre Region Parks & Recreation on Tuesday, July 8, from noonto 1:30 p.m. at Tom Tudek Memorial Park, Pavilion #2, 400 Herman Drive, State College.
- Monday’s Moments at Tom Tudek Memorial Park in Partnership with Centre Region Parks & Recreation on Monday, July 21, from noon to 1:30 p.m. at Tom Tudek Memorial Park, Pavilion #2, 400 Herman Drive, State College.
- Death Café Virtual Gathering on Monday, July 2,1 from 4:30 to 5:30 p.m. on Zoom.
More information on all of these programs can be found on the Bereavement Gatherings and Events page under Resources on the Koch Funeral Home website. To reserve your spot and receive the invitation links, email Jackie@JackieHook.com, call 814-237-2712 or visit the Koch Funeral Home Facebook page.
Jackie Naginey Hook, MA, is a spiritual director, celebrant and end-of-life doula. She coordinates the Helping Grieving Hearts Heal program through Koch Funeral Home in State College. For more information, please call 814-237-2712 or visit kochfuneralhome.com.
