From: blchapma@eos.ncsu.edu (BEKKI LYN)
Subject: Re: Saying goodbye
Date: Sun, 18 Jul 1993 19:48:10 GMT

Myra Bernson writes:
>On June 30th my father died.  It was quite unexpected.  I suspect
>I would have difficulties accepting this even if he *had* had an
>illness or an injury, but he didn't.  He just died peacefully in 
>his sleep.
>
>There was a funeral service in his church which was in accordance
>with his beliefs.  The service gave my mother some measure of
>consolation.  I was astonished at how much I resented the service.
>I have attended church with my parents on rare occasions (such as
>Christmas or Easter) since I chose the path I am now on and didn't 
>experience this negative of a reaction before.
>
>I have discussed this with my HPS and am planning a ritual where
>I can say goodbye to dad in my own manner.  I have some ideas as
>to what I would like to do, but am interested in knowing what
>others have done or have thought would be good to do for a ritual
>of this nature.

I've been thinking on this subject for a while now myself.  My dad has
been in the hospital in ICU for a little over a week since having
major surgery for an anyurism (I have no idea how to spell that, so
I've spelt it as I've heard it pronounced).  The night after his
surgery the hospital people did not expect him to live.  He did live,
but he has been critical ever since.

He may or may not die.

However, I've thought that if he does die I would like to remember
him in my own way as well, since he will have a funeral based on
his own beliefs.

What I've thought about was just getting together some physical
representations of things he loved, and also maybe some pictures
of him and just meditate on the happy times he's given me, and
the joy I've felt just having him around.  Maybe visualize him
giving back to the Earth and a new rebirth from her.

I've read up on some Samhain rituals for honoring the dead and 
might incorporate some of those things as well, although I'm not
sure of what.

I hope I don't sound too morbid here since my father is after all,
still alive, but I've felt I've had to think about these things
just in case.

In any case, I would say that anything you can do that will help
you remember him and perhaps tell him everything that
you've ever wanted to tell him might be helpful.

Bekki Lyn

From: uphrrmk@gemini.oscs.montana.edu (Jack Coyote)
Date: 18 Jul 1993 22:26:32 GMT

La Morte and I recently said goodbye to a dear friend.  We will not be
able to attend the memorial, so we held our own the night he died.

We began by remembering our friend with the meal we most associated
him with: beer and pizza.  After, we talked about our favorite
memories and best-loved quotes.  When it felt right, we went outside,
said what seemed appropriate, and left a bottle of his favorite beer
out for him.

For those you care about, shared experiences are the best memorial.

From: timp@aifh.ed.ac.uk (Tim Pizey)
Date: 18 Jul 93 23:19:07 GMT


I have had few people I love die, but hope that these comments may
help.

My grandfather died, a little early, when I was eleven.  I made a
wreath of daisies and set them to float on a steam.  He had told me
that, when he died he would have liked a stone to be set on top of the
mountain behind his house, with his name on it, I was too young to do
it and still feel the need.  A friend from university died, who I had
not seen since leaving.  I did not know how to make it real, as I had
not seen him and he was still alive for me. I went out into the field
ouside my house, which had just been harvested and burnt, and looked
up at the big sky.  I did get a feeling that he was dead and above,
and that my talking to him could reach him.

Tim 

From: deewall@cwis.unomaha.edu (Davette D. Walling)
Subject: Re: Hocus Pocus
Date: Wed, 21 Jul 1993 01:22:30 GMT

Hello, I know that this may seem 'too late' but, it's something to
remember for the unfortunate but ever-present next time a loved one
dies.

When my grandmother died, my family had just learned about my chosen
belief system -- paganism.  They all had strong christian beliefs, and
for the most part could not accept mine.  However, while my grandma
was ill she confided in the family priest that when I spent time with
her I could sooth her in a way that only the 'priesthood' had been
able to do otherwise, and maybe that was because I considered myself
part of a 'priesthood'.  When it became time to arrange her funeral, I
spoke of my wishes to my immediate family. I'm dedicated to an
egyptian goddess and believe in an after-life with Isis & Osiris, I
felt that I needed to enclose something with my grandmother for her
happiness there.  To my surprise every member of my family agreed to
this and found something that they had shared with her to place by her
side during the funeral. . .so, now for me she will always be
surrounded with rememberances of the ones she loved.  --

From: markbr%radian@natinst.com (mark)
Date: Wed, 21 Jul 1993 21:44:37 GMT

My Dad died about six years ago. We used the same funeral home my
grandfather had been buried through, since it was a "known
quantity". My Mom managed to keep them from anything religious (since
my father was *certainly* not, and would have been offended) other
than a 24th Psalm. Then she, and my aunt, and my sister got up and
spoke about him. Finally, I got up, and said my peace. After I got
them started, four or five friends got up to speak, also. We didn't
have some turkey, who didn't know him, speak of him, to remember him
for us.

When my Mom died, last spring, we did the same thing.

Beyond that, a few years ago, a couple of years after he died, I
finally had the chance to go out to the cemetary (I live far from
where I come from, and only get back there once or twice a year, and
always have little time, what with trying to see friends & family). I
brought a few fall leaves to the grave, and took a few away with me,
in my jacket pocket. In between, I spoke to the grave (glad that he
knew how I felt about him, and that I'd spoken to him not too long
before), about how I felt, and missed him. I softly sang the song I
thought of most, when I thought of him. There was no one else
around. It was, after all, between him and me. He is, of course, still
with me, and will be.

	mark