Strewn Flowers
for everyday funerals, ~Kate Bowler When archaeologists dig down deep in the hard-packed sediment of civilizations come and gone they find flowers, dried flowers, strewn among the bones. Someone was laid down among their people and the first thought, the best thought, was to pull flowers from the dirt to accompany them. We know an ending when we see one. We attend funerals every day. Big and small, we see our endings... And if we are lucky, so very lucky, we pause once a day. We feel a kindling in our heart which reminds us: there it is and there it goes. We tilt our heads, then glance back, fast enough to see it fade. And we feel the magnitude of such a miracle-- that anything, anyone, began at all...
This past week was the funeral for my husband’s 97 year old step-grandmother, Nanny. As the last songs were sung beside her grave, we laid a slew of beautiful flowers into and over her final place of rest, piles of beautiful blooms to honor the life that had been.
Today, I found myself thinking of all the life she lived, nearly 98 years worth, and the way we sought to bless that life of hers through the act of a funeral. Perhaps this is what a funeral offers in part—a blessing not only for the end of a life, but also the starts and stops and in betweens of it all.
This question, then, settled over my heart—could it be possible to learn to look back on my everyday this way? Could I perhaps hold life and death with more reverance if I were to bless each day as it ends? Bless the day’s delight and the day’s madness. Bless it all as I lay it to rest.
There are little deaths, everyday funerals, in each of our days. Often they pass unnoticed and without celebration or blessing. Yet, we might learn to look up long enough from our phones and computers and judgements and irritations and haste to experience the life of our days before it passes. Instead of looking away too quickly or railing against what is gone, perhaps we lift our eyes and really notice what is before it is no longer. Might I lay each day to rest, grow more at ease with saying goodbye, as I throw flowers over the day to honor what’s been?