The funeral of a loved one marks the final chapter in The Wheel of Life.
Whilst being a very sad and solemn ceremony, it is the human ritual where we say goodbye to the earthly body of the person we knew and loved, and as every religion has its own way of saying goodbye, so does Buddhism.
There is a moving chapter in The Buddha, Geoff and Me, which covers the ritual of a Buddhist funeral and that is how I would like my final chapter in this life to end.
At my Father’s funeral I read the following poem by Henry Scott Holland …
Death is Nothing At All
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well.
It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, and it brings tears to my eyes reading it now. I feel however, that it embraces the Buddhist idea that death is not the end, it is merely a new beginning.
Despite the recent gloomy weather it is so heart warming to see the green shoots of Spring finally starting to appear. It was beautiful in Ringwood yesterday, temperatures of over 20°C and lovely warm sunshine. And not before time, farmers all around the country are warning of late starts to their crops, with the ground temperature being kept low by the cold east winds.
The funeral of Margaret Hilda Thatcher was performed with dignity and a degree of humour, befitting such a huge political figure. I was pleased that, although there were occasional expressions of dissent from the crowds lining the funeral route, there was no apparent protest.
March the thirteenth always stirs up the saddest of memories for me and my family. It is exactly twenty one years ago today, that I lost the second most important lady in my life, my paternal grandmother. Just to make it even worse, if that were at all possible, ironically, March the thirteenth 1992 was a Friday, probably the worst Friday the thirteenth ever.
Sadly, my aunt passed away yesterday. I say sadly, but actually that is only for those of us who remain. For her it is but another phase of the Wheel of Life.
After what seems to have been the longest winter, today really feels like spring. Not that it’s really that warm, about 9°C here in Poole, but the sun is just so beautiful it makes you want to smile.
Reading reports of the
Watching
So that was that then. 
Recents Comments