Remembrance, twenty years on

We give them back to you, O Lord, who first gave them to us, and, as you did not lose them in the giving so we do not lose them in the return... Life is unending because love is undying, and the boundaries of this mortal life are but a horizon, and a horizon is but the limit of our sight... ~ Bede Jarrett OP

Loss and heartache have a way of compressing time, whilst also stretching it; of obscuring and deleting some memories, whilst retaining others with sharp, crystal clarity. Unbelievably, it is twenty years since my mother died. I say unbelievable, but it can be believed: the rawness has numbed, the pain been blunted with each passing year, even as I can still remember, still feel, the leaden weight which descended on and filled me within minutes of her last breath. There were things to do, and I did them: my father to comfort; the undertaker to liaise with; death certificates, and a funeral to arrange and endure; people abroad to contact with the news; a stream of neighbours and cousins and condolences, and my mother's body to sit with and keep in the house, as per Italian custom. I moved and spoke, planned, hosted, made phone calls and signed forms, and the lead weight moved with me, taking up its unwelcome, unwanted residence. 

I can barely remember the 9th or 10th of November 2006, but the 11th onwards are as starkly in focus as if they had happened yesterday. And I remember, too, how I could see my heartbroken father's spirit die with my mother, though his body lingered on for another three months. And I can remember the moment I realised, as he lay dying, that I had as yet barely begun to scratch the surface of grieving, and - though unsurprising - the heaviness of the pain which engulfed me after his death. Yes; I can remember all this and more as if it were yesterday, even as I know that it was really many years ago, because in these years there has been healing, and an easing of my aching heart, as the weight has slowly, often silently and surprisingly, ended its deadening, life-sapping occupation. 

We give them back to you, O Lord... And to anyone for whom remembrance is still raw, I can say, it does recede... And you will be able to give them back to the One who first gave them to us, and not lose them in the return, because love is undying, and our boundaries are but a horizon, the limit of our sight...

We give them back to you, O Lord, who first gave them to us, and, as you did not lose them in the giving so we do not lose them in the return. Not as the world gives do you give, O Lover of souls! For what is yours is ours also, if we belong to you. Life is unending because love is undying, and the boundaries of this mortal life are but a horizon, and a horizon is but the limit of our sight. Lift us up, strong Son of God, that we may see further! Strengthen us in faith that we may see beyond the horizon! And while you prepare a place for us, as you have promised, prepare us also for that happy place, that where you are we may be also, with those we have loved, forever.