The last couple of days have been spent clearing out, and cleaning, Shirley’s house. She hadn’t been in the house for four years, so everything was damp, mouldy and musty after four British winters. Also people had been through a couple of times and hadn’t tidied up after looking for items, so there was a generally untidy and slightly chaotic feel. There was a sad feeling, I remember how clean and tidy Shirley kept that house, full of her beloved belongings. She would have been so distressed to see it in it’s current condition.
Today, we viewed her body, just Andy and I. The undertakers had done a superb job, with very subtle make-up to keep her colour good. It was confronting to view the body, and it is the first time I have seen the body of someone I knew. However, that husk wasn’t Shirley, the woman I met only once for a few days but who loved Dancing with the Stars, couldn’t cook to save herself but loved a good Chinese takeaway, and loved discussing the gossip of the day. That was only her body, a cadaver, the physical remnants.
Shirley is with us, in memory and spirit, however not in that body or in that house.
The last days have made me consider what is left, when a person dies.
The house, the belongings, that’s the material items left, the body, the corporeal substance. For me, the memories of the person, the way they behaved and the good ( or bad) will they left in the world, that’s what stays with the people remaining behind. So the detritus, the physical goods, a few will be a valuable anchor to memories and emotions however most of the stuff, that can be let go in whatever fashion is right.
We visited Andy’s grandmother and grandfather’s grave a few days ago, on that beautiful pale sunny day. For many, the grave is a valuable anchor back to the memories of the loved person. A cremation, and scattering the ashes in a place meaningful to the person who has left, well that place is the anchor back to the memories of that departed person. The grave, the funeral, scattering of the ashes, sighting the body, the wake, these are all the rituals which guide us to the acknowledgement of a death.
My Longest Journey 