A Funeral Prayer

This is a widow’s prayer. I recited it for her at her husband’s funeral:

God, give us strength to hold on and strength to let go,
courage to go forward and courage to look back.
Thank you for the joy of memories that are held in the heart,
that bring loved ones alive although we’re apart.
AMEN.

Her prayer, with a couple of minor changes, is shared here with her permission.

This prayer reflects the paradox that exists especially in loss; that strength and courage are available, albeit in burgeoning, threatening, paralysing weakness and fear; both are possible in two spacial ways.

Wisdom, compassion and humility give us strength to hold on when our world is falling apart. But there is also equivalent and relevant strength in letting go. It takes strength to let go; the strength of faith. Yet, it takes strength to hold on. Both dimensions of strength work in unison and are mutually inclusive. One without the other exacerbates grief.

Likewise, courage is required in letting go of our loved one’s physical presence; we do this — though we must, because there’s no choice — to move forward. Just the same is true about looking back when it seems easier to deny our pain. Don’t deny your pain. Both dimensions of courage, like strength, work in unison, one complementing the other.

Engines work because their pistons go back and forth. The downward stroke and the upward stroke are equally important; the engine cannot work without them both. Whether it is holding on or letting go, moving forward or looking back, accepting the past or hoping for future, one cannot exist without the other.

Blessed is the capacity to move forward and to look back, to have no regret for past nor anxiety for future; for God to give affirmation to such a prayer, by his equipping, must surely be the greatest of all needs satisfied in grief.

This prayer also holds aloft the sanctity of our memories — those very real possessions we have that are held surely and securely in our heart by our mind. Memories that cannot be erased do surely bring the people we miss alive even though we’re cosmically apart.

If our memories remain intact, possession of our loved ones cannot be taken away. They just become spiritual possessions rather than physical ones.

Acknowledgement for the first line to Leunig.

Photo by Bobby Rodriguezz on Unsplash