If you suppress grief too much, it can well redouble. Moliere
KINGFISHER courtesy JO TRUMAN
Go now to a good place, not an evil one; go to the road of the sunshine, not the road of the rains; go where there are neither mosquitoes nor march-flies, but where there are pigs in plenty and taro in plenty…and we shall make a feast in your honour, and payment to those who have mourned you. A man from Oro Province as quoted in F E Williams, Orokaiva Society.
Yaaning Time again.
It seems to be a tough year this year. It IS a tough year. I think someplace inside I had allowed the opinions of others to slip in again and have placed invisible limits on my mourning and my grief. Me and Leo the horse are quietly in mourning out here during the days when the others are all away at school and work.
The second type of depression is more subtle and, in a sense, perhaps more private. It is our quiet preparation to separate and to bid farewell.
I wear my pyjama pants a lot and play Scrabble online. I don’t seem able to function very well and life is a little muddled in my head. I feel useless and concerned for my nieces and nephew and daughter. I still see my sister’s strange little puzzled frown and the one tear falling and still feel the waiting for her next breath which didn’t come.
Its coming up for 6 months. I make myself the pledge right here and right now as I once did with my mother, to mourn just as long and just as deep as the mourning requires of me. I also accept whatever changes that might bring into my life. Pretending is of no use whatsoever.
Maybe today I shall call Bellingen Council and get some quotes on burial sites and plaques. I have my parent’s ashes here. 1/3 of them anyways and I fancy a spot on the Hill at Urunga, looking out to sea across the Lagoon.
I reclaim my own oddly formed Shabbos day and develop my own Mourning pattern. Rather, I let it develop me.
I am also watching old time daytime TV shows. In the aforementioned pyjamas.
And letting my heart ache for as long as it needs to and as much as it needs to.
Now to form my own Mourning.
A person’s possessions and weapon’s are often disposed of or buried with them during the ceremony. In some areas burial poles are erected at burial grounds or stencil markings and paintings would show where loved ones were buried in caves.Ceremonies last days, weeks and even months depending upon the beliefs of the language group. During these ceremonies often strict language rules apply. With close family members restricted to not being able to talk for the whole period of mourning.
The immediate family members of the deceased traditionally wear black clothing for at least forty days. During this time they do not participate in social occasions — parties or family celebrations — and they do not dance or listen to music. Many individuals choose to extend this period to one year or even longer, and in some cases, widows or widowers continue to wear black for the rest of their lives.
(Now is the Hour)
(On a moonlit night)
E moea iho nei
(I see in a dream)
E haere ana
(You going away)
Koe ki pämamao
(To a distant land)
Ka hoki mai anö
(But return again)
Ki i te tau
(To your loved one)
E tangi atu nei (Weeping here)
because Susan loved New Zealand.
|Tangi a te ruru,
kei te hokihoki mai e
i te putahitanga
Näku nei ra
koe i tuku haere
Tëra puritia iho
nui rawa te aroha e
Te Hokinga Mai,
Tangi ana te ngäkau
i te aroha
Tü tonu ra te mana
te ihi o nga tipuna
kua wehea atu rä
Mauria mai te mauri tangata
hei oranga mo te mörehu
tangi mökai nei
E rapu ana i te ara tika
mo tätou katoa
Te Hokinga Mai,
Te Hokinga Mai
Tü tangata tonu !
|The cry of the morepork
keeps coming back to me.
It is hooting out there
where the paths meet.
I was the one
who allowed you to go.
It was curbed,
my deep love for you
Te Hokinga Mai,
How my heart weeps
in (sorrowful) love.
Stand tall, the prestige
(and) the awe of the ancestors
who have passed on.
Bring back the true spirit of the people
to help heal the survivour
crying with loneliness (lit. like a captive)
(and) searching for the true path
for all. (This stanza sung twice)
Te Hokinga Mai!
Te Hokinga Mai!
King James Bible
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
It is traditional to place a small stone on a grave. This act is like leaving a calling card. It is not intended to be a sign to the deceased person. A stone is simple and basic, a natural product of the earth, yet a symbol of eternity, representing our commitment to uphold the memory of the deceased.
Little stones may be found on the cemetery ground. The JCT provides stones which are stored on the porch of the cemetery office.
It is customary to wash the hands after leaving the graveside. This washing is an affirmation of life after involvement with death. JCT has facilities for washing on the porch of the cemetery office. Further taps are located in each section of the cemetery. See map.
From the Old French grève, meaning heavy burden.
From the 9th century Old English murnan; was combined with “ing” in the 13th century; the act of sorrowing.
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break. William Shakespeare
Accept the inescapable fact that grief is the ransom you pay for loving well. So tell others of your love and the pain of your loss. Remember that it is normal for those internal feelings to persist and there is nothing wrong with feeling the way you do for weeks, months or longer. Allow the process to naturally unfold and don’t try to cut it short.
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Eccl. 3:4. “[there is] a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.
I don’t wish to be helped out of this state. I don’t wish to ‘come good’. As someone who took an exit route from life too early and for too long, I know that the easier, softer ways don’t work for me. Travelling the Path of the Mourner WILL and IS working. It will lead me to a better place than any I have known before and I have known some very good places.
Sometimes, when one person is absent, the whole world seems depopulated
Allphonse de Lamartine