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Reflection for August 29th

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Seedling

Ellen Fulkerson, my mother-in-law, died at about 5 AM on August 24th. She was 86 years old. She suffered a stroke in the autumn of 2001, which impaired her mobility; and while she could still speak, she did so rarely. Her features, however, retained their capacity to communicate, recognize people and react to dialogue. She could still smile.
Nevertheless, it was downhill from there. Ever so gradually she yielded to a permanent need for a wheelchair; her occasional speech gave way to silence. A weariness came over her. Finally she had to be placed in a convalescent hospital. From sitting up, she soon spent every day in bed or a wheeled recliner. Her eyes remained closed except for rare moments when she seemed to stare at no one in particular. Physically she became a fragile remnant of her former self - and then breathed forth her spirit. It had been a long decline, frustrating to those who loved her. As for me, it was one more experience of how a once blossoming, accomplished human being, possessed of mind, beauty, interests and ambitions, can collapse into a pale wraith of its former self.

But here's where our religious tradition - with all its customs and poetry - came sweeping in like a cloud of angels to retrieve that pitiful remnant of Ellen's life; to remind us of her true nature, worth and durability beyond the ups and downs of biology. For example, tradition required that we hold a wake, that we arrange her in an ornate bed set within a chamber of more or less décor, surrounded by mementos of her life story and flowers tagged with sentiments of friends far and wide. Recognition! Affirmation in the face of death. Celebration of a life.

And then there were the prayers. How thoughtful it is to say the Rosary at a wake! Of course we've streamlined it to no more than 1 or 2 decades. But what if we actually recited the whole 15, recalling first the Joyful Mysteries: the birth and childhood of Christ - then the Sorrowful Mysteries, recalling the suffering that awaits us all - but then the Glorious Mysteries of Christ's resurrection, ascension and Mary's assumption and coronation! For what are we doing when we thus meditate upon the life cycle of Christ and Mary but integrating Ellen's life into that cycle, coaxing Ellen's own past phases of joy and suffering toward a glorious finale equivalent to that of Christ and Mary - a finale that will never end.

And then there were the passages read at Ellen's funeral liturgy, which again like angelic messengers descended to rescue Ellen's life from the tomb, to assert her worth despite the ravages of time - with words from the Book of Proverbs: " Her value is beyond pearls. / Her husband, entrusting his heart to her, has an unfailing prize. / She rises while it is still night, and distributes food to her household. / She enjoys success in her dealings; at night her lamp is undimmed. / She reaches out her hands to the poor. / She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs at the days to come. / She opens her mouth in wisdom. / Her children rise up and praise her; her husband, too, extols her. / Many are the women of proven worth, but you have excelled them all."

And then we heard another angel out of the Book of Revelation informing us that for Ellen there shall be no more death for "Behold, I make all things new." And another recalling the words of Jesus regarding Jairus' daughter, "She is not dead, but asleep. Little girl, I say to you, Arise." And then again there were all those flowers reminding us that unless the seed die it cannot bear fruit; reminding us that Ellen, reduced physically to a seedling of her former self, was at last ready to blossom in ways - eternally - that we shall never imagine until we follow her one day through the valley of the shadow of death to lie down ourselves in green pastures - beside still waters.

-- Geoff Wood