Death, Dying & the Divine
Alternative titles: an invitation to Life Writing Month. When your emotional support dog goes home to live with Jesus. And, I'm almost six years cancer free.
Over the last few years, I have been called back to the awkward, sacred, holy, wild and tender place and space of grief, Beloveds. I often wonder if this is because in my early years, there was no room for it. Death happened. Loved ones were struck down and rose back up to life-eternal and we grieved them, yes, but temporarily and really, not together. Instead a pervasive ache moved through our bodies and lives.
On the periphery of my life though, my Jewish family members tended to grief in what seemed to be a healthier way. Arms wrapped around one another for seven days as they sat shiva.
What is shiva & why are we talking about death today?
Shiva is a ritual and practice. It is a Jewish birthright. Sitting shiva isn’t only a beautiful tradition, but it is a necessary one for Jewish families.
Sitting shiva is a term used to describe the action of Jewish mourners participating in the traditional rituals of observing a shiva. During the period of shiva, mourners sometimes sit on low stools or boxes while they receive condolence calls. This is where the phrase “sitting shiva” comes from, and it is a practice that symbolizes the mourner being “brought low” following the loss of a loved one. For seven days, the family members of the deceased gather in one location – typically their own home or the home of the deceased – and mourns the loss in a variety of ways.
Shiva is a part of digesting, processing, integrating, and perhaps even healing the relationship with transition, death, dying and the Divine.
So, why are we talking about death today? Well, it is the time of year in the Northern Hemisphere when death and dying are all around us. This week in particular, we honor the dead and the imbedded fear of dying with various holidays from Dias de los Muertos to All Saints Day. Many cultures, including Indigenous ones, believe that right now “the veil” (between our realm and the spirit realm) is the most thin, too. In fall, we see our plants melt into the earth, leaf by leaf. Trees burning with yellows and reds dull into brown. The skies become increasingly gray. And even though some of us will need to wait a few more months to fully see this (Arizona takes her time), we can feel the shift in our bones. Death is imminent. Decay and grief up next.
So, why not use this season for it’s highest and best good - to grieve better and well?
That time I grieved well, aka “when Roo went home”
It feels like it happened in an entirely different lifetime - but four years ago, just before the pandemic hit and the world shut down, my emotional support dog went home to be with Jesus, the angels and the saints. I grasp we all have various beliefs about our pets lives after death; and, this is the picture I “drew” that gives me the most peace. Rookie (Roo) came to me just a few days before I was diagnosed with cancer. He was a Divine drop. The kind of dog wanted nothing more than to snuggle day and night. We enjoyed each other so much! The problem was, he wanted human food just a little bit more than his mommy snuggles. And, after walking alongide me on my melanoma journey for almost two years, he got into raisins (which are toxic to dogs).
Can I tell you that if this dog wasn’t sleeping, he literally spent every spare moment hunting for food? He figured out cabinets and jumped up our kitchen counters regularly. He bit anyone in sight that might be holding food. And, while I am aware that this sounds quite ridiculous if you’re not a dog person, we did our best to organize our life around it. Until the day we didn’t. Until the day he got into those raisins and promptly started his journey on home. Even after we spent every extra penny to save him.
When Roo went home, I found myself in between worlds. I was officially a survivor of cancer - and that is a wonderful feeling, for sure. But death still showed up. Not on my doorstep where I could shut it out, either. Instead, it was still in my very own home. Me and my people collapsed in grief. What I learned here is that for me, personally, my grief process deepens when I am with someone who is existing within the same grief container grieving for the same soul that I am grieving. My two precious kids were terrorized by grief. Because in this moment, they weren’t just grieving him. They were grieving the previous year, too, when their mother didn’t always look likely to survive. Compounded grief is messy, loves.
What if we’re held, even in grief?
What amazed me throughout that season was the holding. Recently, one of my Spiritual Direction teachers asked us about when the God of our understanding shows up for us most. While I see God in everything and all things, almost always… it has been in the most terrible moments of my life that I have actually seen God most. The worship song that I began to sing as I drove Roo to the veterinary ER that first night. The overwhelming peace that came over me when one of my closest friends lost her husband quite suddenly, and I hopped onto a plane to travel 3500 miles - leaving two small kids (one exceptionally high need) behind and at home with a friend. Last year, I stood in a funeral home and met hundreds of people who knew my father-in-love, who had just passed. I wouldn’t have been surprised to know that I hugged Jesus or shook his hand that night.
The presence of God in the most trying times can be so palpable.
What’s your relationship with grief?
Today, I want to extend an invitation to you for Life Writing Month. November is the month where we remember what we’ve lived, beautiful human. And while we will get to talking about and writing about the big, beautiful things, I want to encourage you to start by writing about something that that has caused you to grieve. It could be a anything from the loss of identity post-religious trauma or abuse to the shift of identity in motherhood or parenting, the state of our world right now, or even a tangible loss like that of physical health, mental wellness, a pregnancy, infant, child, mother, partner or friend.
You get to choose what story you write.
And, you get to decide in what light you’ll share it.
I think one of the most valuable parts about writing through our lives is sharing it with a loved one or companion, my friend. So, I want to invite you share your story with someone you trust, to email me your stories (I can’t believe I’m doing this, but hey - why not!) or to offer it to a wider audience, like social media, a blog post or a open mic night/a poetry slam.
You can also comment with your story below.
What to do with grief
On this note, if you are grieving in motherhood I spoke with the incredible somatic practitioner, Ayurvedic doula and my personal therapist Stacey Ramsower this afternoon and I would love for you to listen in!
As a note, I do offer virtual postpartum doula support for folks with a history of grief, trauma, loss and those on wild body-mind paths as well as free compassionate listening events for your journey with grief in motherhood and parenting as well.
I love you,
J. 🌻Jennifer Magnano
New here? Dear Soul Tender is a safe, inclusive and progressive faith-filled space where you can find contemplations at the intersection of caregiving, pain and peace. My promise here is to remind you of how to love well. Yourself, your kids, your neighbor, and the whole wide world.