All Faithful Departed: Learning to Grieve

“When you were a child, who taught you how to grieve?”

I was struck by this question. I had never thought about it before. A profound and prolonged silence fell on the circle of adults gathered in the chapel as we reached deep into our childhood memories.

This was part of our training to become facilitators for Walking the Mourner’s Path, a Christ-centered program whose purpose is “transforming grief into joyful living.”

“When you were a child, who taught you how to grieve?”

I remember my mother gently and tearfully telling my sister and me that my paternal grandfather — my Opa — had died. My father rushed to be at the side of his mother, so he was not there to give us the news. Within days, the entire family gathered with my grandparents’ friends for Opa’s funeral.

I stood at the side of his open casket holding a small sweetheart rose that I had picked from his garden. My Oma placed it in his hands for me. With her eyes wet with tears, she told me that he was now with Jesus. His suffering from cancer was over and he was in the loving arms of God.

With tears, hugs, and fervent hymnody, we gave thanks to God for him and his life. The widows in the church embraced my Oma with a holy friendship in the weeks, months, and years that followed in a way that even I noticed as a child.

They all taught me how to grieve.

And so did the church.

In the rhythm of the church year, All Saints Day (Nov. 1) and All Souls/All Faithful Departed (Nov. 2) followed my Opa’s death by a few weeks. Just before the Eucharistic Prayer at my parish church, the names of the faithful departed were read, among them was my  Opa’s name.

Then I heard the words in the Eucharistic Prayer, “with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven…” and I understood that he was part of “the company of heaven.” I understood that every time we gather for communion, heaven and earth touch, and we are all together again.

Decades later, I sat across from a tearful 10-year-old child. Her youngest sibling, who had been chronically ill, died earlier that year. She was wracked with grief.

She recalled to me an unfortunate event on the way home from their last family trip together. There was confusion at airport security which resulted in a shocking separation. All family members passed through security, with exception to the youngest because of his medical canisters and liquids. Though the actual distance was only a few yards, they were separated by a terrifying gulf. Panic, crying, and wailing ensued. Eventually they were reunited.

 “Is that what it feels like now?” I quietly asked.

She looked at me, tears streaking down her face, and nodded her head: yes.

All Souls Day is an opportunity to teach our children how to grieve, connecting this day to our own personal losses. As 1 Thessalonians 14:13 states, “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.”

Take this day, All Souls Day, to remember the loved ones who have gone before us. Share stories with your children about them. Ask them to share their memories. Break out the photo albums – paper or electronic – and tell the story. The story that includes them and us and our Savior who died and rose for us so that where he is, there we may be also (John 14:3).

It is the tradition of many parishes to name the faithful departed on All Saints’ Sunday. Contact the church office and request that your loved one’s name be included. Then share with your child and prepare them to listen closely when the names are read … and that in communion heaven and earth touch. In it we are all reunited.

This is teaching how to grieve — with hope.

[Image Credit: Alpha via Flickr]