At an inquisitive age of 7, I attended my cousin Ricky’s funeral, age 8. Ricky and I herded calves, collected eggs from the hen house, chased piglets, rode tractors, fished, built forts in the barn. We traveled the road to becoming best friends.
Dad told me; “Though Ricky died, you have lots of good memories to remember him.”
I found no consolation in that. Ricky was gone and all that remains is memories? Is that as good as it gets? I yearned to retain connections to Ricky. Memories seemed an inferior option like a token one plays in a losing game.
Since that time, I have been sensitive in my condolences in the sympathy cards I select; that they not reduce death to memories. For many, many years, I operated out of that mindset until a Saturday morning mass in November. A 94-year old monk shared wisdom and experience. He structured his brief homily entirely upon the responsorial psalm recited between the readings.
Remember the marvels the Lord has done! The Lord remembers forever his covenant which he made binding for a thousand generations! Psalms 105:5,8
The monk spoke of a friend. A husband visited his wife daily at an adult residential care facility. On one occasion, one of the staff asked the husband why he came back each day. “She really doesn’t know you anymore? She won’t remember you were here, either.”
“Perhaps not,” the husband responded, “but I do. I always will.”
The monk went on to say, remembering is an “expression of intimacy with one who is never forgotten.”
Memory is a gift!
Life creates memories, intimate blessings. Memory creates pathways into relationships. Memory allows us to enter covenants.
Remembering gives life! This is what lent is about. Despite death, the act of remembering impacts the present and the future! Advent and birth, lent and death graced with resurrection repeat in our living journey. There are cycles within life. But, life unabridged, in its wholeness is an everlasting journey where bodily death introduces a new beginning, but not a beginning from which we were born.
Our partaking in the Eucharist is an act of remembering Jesus’ gift of himself in the first Eucharistic meal. It nurtures, cultivates the living God within us and the lives of those around us as we eat at the table of our Lord.
The Easter Vigil is all about fresh starts. We repeat “I do” at baptisms, confirmations, and the renewal of Baptismal Promises; Do you believe in God, the Father, almighty Creator of heaven and earth? “I do.”
We proclaim “I do” at marriage in a covenant of love and commitment to our beloved spouses and families. All are built on memories of what has been to become what will be … life everlasting.
Our music, poems, prayers, stories pass on eras to build upon into the future. They spontaneously generate images, emotions, recollections, visions. They refresh life, even life seemingly invisible to us.
I recall a Canadian cartoon panel from “For Better or Worse.”
A grandchild carrying a book approaches her grandfather seated solitary next to a window. He suffers from aggressive Alzheimer’s.
“Would you like to hear a story, Grandpa?”
Grandpa looks ahead despondent.
“Ok, Grandpa.” The child turns and begins to walk away.
The grandfather does not speak. A ‘thought’ bubble overhead reads, “Don’t go! Don’t go! I’m here! I’m here! Deep inside!”
Though the child hears no words from her grandfather, she pauses, turns and climbs upon the vacant armrest to sit. Next to her still stoic grandfather, she opens her book.
“Once upon a time …,” she begins to read.
A graphic thought bubble emerges from the despondent grandfather. A rendering of the grandfather’s face buried deeply within breaks into a broad smile embracing the moment; one to be remembered.
As you reflect and remember during lent, what gives you life? How do you capture them? How do you build upon them? What relationships, covenants do you enter?
Memory is a gift!
Remembering gives life!
Remembering is an act of gratitude!
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