Grief is the Honour We Give to Those Who Loved Us Well
Earlier this year, before Covid made things complicated, I attended a thanksgiving service for a much-loved member of our church. We lost Eileen to cancer at just 68 years of age. As the service began, more chairs had to be put out to accommodate the number of people arriving. And it led to a lesson learned about grief.
Passing On What You Receive
A funeral or thanksgiving service has a way of showing us what really matters in life. That night we didn’t hear about Eileen’s degrees or awards, or the size of her home, or the career goals she achieved—as fine as those things are. Instead, in between friends’ hilarious accounts of her ‘directionally challenged’ driving and family members joking about her giving advice they never asked for, we heard how a girl with a difficult home life, who was bullied at school and couldn’t recall a single happy childhood memory, became a woman who opened her heart and home to others for decades.
For Eileen, that change began with a church that became the family she’d longed for. As those new friends showed her what love was, she passed that love on to others, offering meals and mentoring to anyone who needed it. As one woman said, “When I was a messed-up 18-year-old, Eileen scooped me up and put me back on my feet.” Jesus once told his followers to pass on the love they’d received from him, and that night I saw Eileen as a link in a long chain of receiving and passing-on that stretched all the way back to his words.
The Meaning of Grief
There wasn’t just celebration that night, of course, but tears—and the start of a grief journey Eileen’s family are still on. If it’s right to take lessons from such a moment, I saw then that our lives are best measured by the love we give—and the greater that love, the greater the grief when we leave.
More and more chairs had to be added at Eileen’s memorial that night, until all 500 of us could be seated.
Great love. Great grief. And now I’m starting to think that even though it hurts, maybe grief is the highest honour we can give to someone who loved us well.
First broadcast for Grief Season on BBC Radio 2’s Zoe Ball Breakfast Show
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Kathryn Courtot
This encourages me to love more: care about each person in my life and those Jesus brings into my life… this is a beautiful tribute to a sister who lived and loved “well done “!
Sheridan Voysey
Indeed, Kathryn. Indeed.
May
A life lived with compassion for others is one where we should aspire daily in work (and in life). We can also shine in our lives at work to be light-bearers (in our own unique way).
Sheridan Voysey
I’m with you, May. Now to live it out.
Clare
Yes. This brings to mind the dear couple who pastored the church I grew up in and were a second “mum and dad” to many people. They had a great marriage and a great enduring love for one another, it was clear they never stopped enjoying each other’s company . Joan is now a widow , her husband died 3 years ago , she grieves a lot and misses him every day. I was only just commenting to her son the other day, how it is so sad she carries this great burden and loneliness now – but yet it is also a testament to their great love, — because some widows do not miss their departed one at all. Which is its own kind of sad.
It’s a paradox isn’t it? Almost a mathematical equation, the more you love, the more you then grieve.
I’m trying to think of a way to tie this comment up with a bow but I think that’s the point, you can’t do that with grief.
Except to say that Jesus said those who mourn will be comforted. So that’s my prayer for Joan.
Sheridan Voysey
Your’re so right – grief can’t be neatly tied up with a sweet statement. It’s painful and leaves you hollow, and yet it does this because of the importance of the person and the relationship and so points to something good. Comfort in mourning is a very good prayer to pray for your friend – and all who grieve deeply.
Zoe Presland
This is hugely insightful Sheridan, and a comfort. My Mum died of Covid in March as the 1st lockdown began, same age as your friend Eileen, not only did I lose my best friend, our church lost a much loved leader. She was an encourager to others, she loved largely! We’ve not yet been able to have a remembrance service for her, for everyone to come together and share their stories and encounters, but along with grief, it’ll be a celebration of honour.
Sheridan Voysey
Oh Zoe, I am so sorry. It sounds like your mum was another saint who left ripples of love and change behind her. Grieve well… and celebrate well!