On life, love and death

“Her name will never be recorded in history as someone who did anything special, but her memory will be treasured by those who loved her”

Speaker's Corner

Usually though our resolve is short-lived. The emotion involved in the days that follow death is intense. But it is also surreal. It’s like a bubble of love and pain, support and comfort, tears of sorrow and smiles of recollection envelops those most closely involved. Then it bursts, and life goes back to normal for the world.

Two recent deaths made me reflect on life in a new way. But rather than make any short-lived, illusory promises that I won’t keep, I simply pray that I’ll continue these reflections and use them without even realising it to make life better for myself and others.

The focus of these reflections is the way we value people and how we communicate, and often fail to communicate, that value to them in life.

It was the priest performing the funeral Mass in the first of these deaths that stirred these thoughts. He knew the woman in question, but not particularly well. He knew little about her life really, yet he picked up with precision on the wonderful human qualities she possessed. He spoke of the warmth in her home and the welcome in her smile. He spoke of the love she radiated and how that was plain to see now in her children and her grandchildren. And it is. They are a family bound by the love she gave them. Though her name will never be recorded in the history books as someone who did anything special or great, her memory will be treasured in their hearts as someone who did the greatest thing of all for them – showed them love.

I knew and loved this woman too, yet I know now that I never valued enough the contribution she made with her warmth and affection.

The second catalyst for reflection was the words of a wise relative, commenting on a public tribute paid following a recent tragic death. ‘They’re lovely words of praise, but did she know that when she was alive? Did she know that she was valued that way?’

I can’t say whether the deceased person did or not, but knowing some of her family, I’m absolutely sure it wasn’t for want of trying on their part. Some people need more convincing of their worth than others.

I was trying to explain these rambling reflections to a friend recently and, with the intuitive understanding that makes him such a great friend and confidante, he quoted the following lines from the English poet, Philip Larkin: “In everyone there sleeps/A sense of life lived according to love./To some it means the difference they could make/By loving others, but across most it sweeps/As all they might have done had they been loved.”

These simple lines sum up the value of loving and of being loved. And to this sentiment can surely be added the equal value of knowing that we are loved, and of of letting others know we love them.

When I consider my own life, I realise how lucky I am. I have a mother who adores me – and insists on telling me so. Growing up her complete bias almost embarrassed me. I didn’t have to do anything for her to love me; I didn’t have to achieve anything special for her to be proud of me (and tell everyone so); I didn’t have to look especially nice for her to tell me I was beautiful. Now I appreciate that bias and what it has done for me.

She thinks sometimes that there’s very little she can give me, that her advice doesn’t help to solve the complex problems of my world. What she doesn’t know is that no advice could benefit me more than her absolute belief in me and the strength I derive from knowing that no matter what happens she will always be on my side. I hope she knows now.

Sometimes death brings realisations that are too late for the person we’ve lost. But they’re not too late to benefit the many other people who matter in our lives and the many more who will matter in the future.

To let someone know they’re loved can be an ongoing gift – that benefits both giver and receiver in equal measure.