A change of Seasons
Fall weather is here bringing to a close what has been a
summer of loss. My father died on May 23rd. Two other friends passed
away in June and August. Mourning the loss of a loved one is always hard. It is
also difficult to know how to live, how to go one with activities, even social
events when you are coping with a loss. Losing a loved one, especially a
parent, leads to existential thoughts about life, death, one’s place in the
world, and the unknown future that awaits us all. People tend to fear the unknown and death, of
course, is the greatest unknown. Even
though we all die, we tend to avoid thoughts and discussions of death. We spend
hours thinking of possible futures, but very little time thinking about the
future destiny that awaits us all.
In many societies the subject of death is taboo. Indeed, euphemistic
language, statements like “passed away” “gone” further distances people from the
reality of death. In the past such distancing was impossible; the specter of death
was everywhere. People of all ages died, usually at home. In modern societies
death has been removed from common experience. People die, usually late in
life, often in hospitals. Out of the approximately 6,500 people who die in the
U.S. every day, only 1200 die at home.
When my father died, we rushed about trying to organize a
funeral. My father was an immigrant from Iran who came to the United States in
his forties. While he loved the United
States and American customs and rituals, we discovered that he wanted to be
buried among Iranians, among Muslims if possible. He also wanted a gravesite
with a view. He had always bought houses on hillsides, and he wanted such a
space for his final resting place. The day after he died, we frantically drove
around the sprawling southern city where he spent his later years in an attempt
to fulfill at least some of his wishes.
Funeral customs, of
course, vary. In our complex multi-national
world it is sometimes difficult to fulfill the wishes of loved one who has died.
Although there are similarities in burial customs and culturally designated
mourning practices, each culture has its own way of marking life’s important passages—including, of course, death and
dying. Buddhists, for example, believe in reincarnation and see death as a
transition to the next incarnation, bringing the soul closer to nirvana, a
state of bliss. Funerals for Buddhists tend to be celebratory. Like Jewish and
Muslim funerals, Hindu funerals are usually held within 24 hours of the death.
Friends visit the family at home where the body is usually kept until
cremation. Gifts of flowers are placed at the deceased’s feet. Jewish funerals
also occur within 24 hours. Friends and extended family are welcomed during the
seven-day shivah mourning period. In
Islam, the dead are buried as soon as possible, preferably in 24 hours, in
order to free the soul from the body. Like
other religions, Christian funerals incorporate a variety of customs
according to the wishes of the deceased and his or her family. The funeral can
be held at a funeral home or a church, or a funeral home, typically within three
days after the death. Most Catholic funerals include a wake, a funeral service,
and prayers at the graveside where the body will be laid to rest.
Regardless
of the customs followed, the rituals associated with the end of life provide comfort
for those left behind. Rituals connect us with the deceased and with others who
share our loss. As s a culturally
oriented psychologist, I study commonalities and differences between cultures;
the use of rituals during both joyful and sad times is one of the few cultural universals.
Rituals have been used in every historic period. As they did in the case of my father’s death, rituals provide
comfort and stability during times of stress and transition. Studies have found
that rituals help people reaffirm their connections to their relatives, their
links to their community, and deepen their appreciation of the meaning of life.
As immigrants we struggled to combine some of the traditions of my father’s
background with contemporary customs. We buried my dad in a wooden casket on a
sunny hill; we played Persian music and read some of his favorite poetry. We
said goodbye to him, sadly, with regret, but with as much grace as we could
gather under the circumstances.
Designated mourning periods also accompany
each cultural tradition. These vary from 3 days to 40 days and longer depending
on the relationship with the deceased. I am often asked to speak to various
community organizations on the “normal” process of mourning. During such times
I draw on the work of Elizabeth Kubler-Ross who identified stages of
grieving. These stages include: Shock; Denial; Anger; Bargaining; Depression; Realistic
expectations about life without the loved one; Learning to move forward. Grieving
is, of course, a deeply personal, as well as familial and cultural experience.
How you grieve depends on numerous factors, including your personality and
coping style, your life experience, your faith, and the nature of the loss. Healing
occurs slowly. There is no “normal” timetable for moving forward. It is
important to be patient and allow the process to unfold naturally. I spent the summer mourning my father. Now
it is fall and the seasons are changing.
I‘ve gone back to teaching, I’ve reconnected with my research and
writing. Life, as they say, must go on. I will think of my father each and every
day, and yet the cycle of life advances. In two weeks my daughter is getting
married--another life transition. We
will sense my father’s presence. He will be happy.
