- Do not stand at my grave and weep mairead farrell full#
- Do not stand at my grave and weep mairead farrell free#
It is said that fear played a huge part in what we accept as our rituals today and that this fear of the dead carried over into what was developed into our religions and philosophies. As primitive and without any great psychological knowledge as the Neanderthal man was believed to be, there is proof that they instinctively buried their dead with ritual and ceremony, very much in the same way we do now.
Neanderthal burial grounds dating to 60,000 BC had animal antlers on the body and flower fragments next to the corpse telling us some type of ritual, gift and remembrance existed. As well, how our rituals and ceremonies are so richly and closely entwined with our spiritual and religious beliefs.įuneral rituals and customs are as old as civilization itself and there are three things in common relating to death that have held through time no matter the culture and they are funeral rites, rituals, ceremonies, a sacred place and memorialization. With the experiences of this past weekend, I began thinking of our rituals of death, and by us I mean of the world and how they have came about. Death, being one of them, I find it fascinating how each individual, culture and society handles death uniquely. I am a people watcher and so I tend to observe people especially in the most significant and monumental moments. Then, we were to follow through these ceremonies, mourn him and bury him to say our goodbyes? No, I knew there was more to it and I didn’t stop until I figured it out for myself, and I have.
Do not stand at my grave and weep mairead farrell full#
He was here one minute, full of love and the next, gone? It didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t equate this to my beliefs or religion at the time but more so what I was feeling and my intuition. His vessel was, but his spirit was very much alive and with me, with us all. He would have smirked and chuckled and said, “Cut it out! Just look around and I’ll be right there, whenever you need me.” The minute I read that poem I knew, without a shadow of a doubt that my grandfather was not in that coffin.
Do not stand at my grave and weep mairead farrell free#
He was selfless, intelligent, hard working, honest, loving, kind and free and he would have never wanted us to hurt, to mourn as deeply as we did. You see, this poem encompassed all of who I perceived my grandfather to be and so I knew in my heart that he had fixed it so that specific poem would find me at that precise moment. I knew, even with being so young at the time and not aware of my own divinity just yet, I knew I was supposed to read the poem and that the poem was supposed to be on my grandfather’s mass cards for so many to have read and take home with them forever, including myself. I can remember I was sitting in the funeral parlor and I flipped over one of my grandfather Patsy’s mass cards and that poem is what I found. I had never felt that deep of a loss or had experienced losing someone before my own eyes as I did with my grandfather Pat. I was so confused, and I was sure as hell not ready to say goodbye to him and so a large part of me stayed hidden away trying to understand what had just taken place. The first time I ever read the poem above written by Mary Elizabeth Frye, was on the first day of my grandfathers wake (my mothers father), 11 years ago. Where we had the departing of an older soul, those who are developing their own and those who are only just beginning. I ended the weekend with great friends, good food and drink and an amazing time and so I began to think of this incredible cycle we call life and how in the same weekend I had experienced the extremes of what life is all about.
I couldn’t help but shed some tears as Olivia danced, she was glowing and happy and I knew in that moment that these were the steps to the beginning of everything for her and I was there to see it. As I made it into the afternoon of Saturday the energy changed a bit as I attended the dance recital of my beautiful cousins, Olivia (5), Kelsey (14) and Kaitlyn (16). I know I am blessed, because in thinking and feeling these memories out, all I can feel now is love and happiness even from with in the darkest memories. It was a somber two days, yet there have been what seems like these random flashes of memories being played out right in front of my face, over and over again. Friday night and Saturday morning I attended the wake and funeral of a beloved family member.
This past weekend was a whirlwind with regards to emotion.
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