As the day started we had no idea why,
Why this would be the day that a dear friend would die,
Instead we strode out full of intent,
With the purpose of life and not prepared to relent.
Looking back a few days, those that have now gone past,
Days with which we have lowered our mast,
We scarcely believe he was taken from us,
So suddenly he went with hardly a fuss.
Here we are though left to pick up the pieces,
Whilst all about him is now more about releases,
So many contemplations and so many thoughts,
So many permeations of so many sorts.
Horrible to think if only we knew,
That our dear friend’s life was all but due,
How do we dare to comprehend?
When this is about a Life that can apprehend.
As it is now the family is scattered,
Because of what we know now nothing else mattered,
Air flights here and air flights there,
All because this family cannot but care.
But this story is about loss—a dear life taken,
Without him around we may be sorely mistaken,
Bitterest loss is now the family’s contempt,
Sorrow upon sorrow—nothing else can they attempt.
Perhaps we’re not so close but our thoughts do extend,
We do so dearly wish we could now simply mend,
A situation like this is a calamitous disaster,
How is our sympathy to help the grieving master?
Just like everything we have cause to accept,
The mystery about life that leaves us bereft,
The meaning of the emotions we cannot construe,
No wonder we feel comprehensively blue.
We can wonder how we are meant to go on after the passing of a dearest one. If it’s someone not so close we may feel awkwardly distant and guilty that we don’t feel more sorrow. Death affects us all who are left remaining.
The happening of someone’s death transforms priorities and perspectives. We regain a grasp over the preciousness of life. We understand, as much as we are able to understand, how fragile and futile life seems to be. Not that we take it for granted; never more do we appreciate the necessity of making the most of our lives.
It does us no good to ponder the state and situation of the dead, unless to imagine them somehow at peace. They came into the world and lived their lives the best they could with what they had. And whatever the life, in the vast majority of cases, we celebrate.
Long live their memory, in the pleasantest of ways, in devotion to God.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.