Poetry in Grief: Henry van Dyke

One of my late mother's favorite poems has also become a favorite of mine.  Henry van Dyke Jr. (1852-1933) was an American author, poet, and minister in the Presbyterian Church.  For many years, he served on the faculty of Princeton University as a professor of English literature.  He also officiated at the funeral of Mark Twain in 1910.  He wrote many poems, and there is some question as to whether he is the true author of "I Am Standing Upon the Seashore," although some literary scholars believe him to be it.  Whoever DID write it has, in my humble opinion, composed a beautiful and hopeful ode to what awaits our deceased loves ones, and ultimately us as well.

"I Am Standing Upon The Seashore" by Henry van Dyke

I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other. 

Then, someone at my side says;
"There, she is gone!" 

"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. 

And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout;
"Here she comes!"
And that is dying.

Words of Comfort: Paramahansa Yogananda

Paramahansa Yogananda (1893-1952) was an Indian Hindu monk, yogi, and guru.  He immigrated to the United States in 1920.  He is widely credited with increasing  the popularity of the yoga and meditation movements here in the U.S.  Yogananda combined many aspects of Western and Eastern belief into his theology; his Hindu background also incorporated much thought and discussion about Jesus and Christianity.  Yogananda also spent a fair amount in his speeches talking about death and dying.

Some of the most reassuring words I came across after the death of my mother came from a Yogananda article over at the Yogoda Satsanga Society of India website: "Life After Death: What Happens After Death".  The whole article is worth reading in its entirety, but here are a few excerpts that provided me with some solace during those really difficult days of grieving:

"Every one of us is going to die someday, so there is no use in being afraid of death. You don’t feel miserable at the prospect of losing consciousness of your body in sleep; you accept sleep as a state of freedom to look forward to. So is death; it is a state of rest, a pension from this life. There is nothing to fear. When death comes, laugh at it. Death is only an experience through which you are meant to learn a great lesson: you cannot die.

....

The body is only a garment. How many times you have changed your clothing in this life, yet because of this you would not say that you have changed. Similarly, when you give up this bodily dress at death you do not change. You are just the same, an immortal soul, a child of God.

....

Death is not the end: it is temporary emancipation, given to you when karma, the law of justice, determines that your present body and environment have served their purpose, or when you are too weary or exhausted by suffering to bear the burden of physical existence any longer. To those who are suffering, death is resurrection from the painful tortures of flesh into awakened peace and calmness. To the elderly, it is a pension earned by years of struggling through life. For all, it is a welcome rest."

Philosophy of Dying: Socrates

The ancient Greek philosopher Socrates (circa 470 - 399 BCE) is often thought of as the founder of Western philosophy.  He was also considered a highly controversial figure.  Accused of corrupting the youth of Athens, Socrates was sentenced to death after a one day trial, for which he was made to drink from the poisonous hemlock plant.  

Gregory Elder, a professor emeritus of history and a priest in the Roman Catholic Church, offers some fascinating insights into Socrates's views on death and dying:

"The body, [Socrates] asserted, was a messy pit of passions and rude cravings. The soul, rather than the flesh alone, was capable of seeing truth, and therefore death was the moment when the soul would be set free to find true virtue and happiness.

....

Socrates’ friends asked how he could be so sure the soul was immortal. What if it just died with the flesh? How does one know that the soul really exists at all?

What if men and women are in reality just talking meat machines?

....

First of all, he argued, the soul must be immortal because life always comes from the dead as we see in nature. In the decaying of organic matter, new life in the fields always emerges. As nature always seems to generate new life out of decay, so too the soul must emerge alive when the crumbling flesh perishes.

Death, he said, will be like waking up from a sleep."

Father Gregory's article, which is definitely worth reading in its entirety, can be found here.

Books That Have Helped: C.S. Lewis's "A Grief Observed"

One of my priorities at Living Alongside Grief is to identify various books that have helped me through the grieving process.  I cannot promise or guarantee that any particular book will help you.  We all grieve differently and we all find solace in different places and from different sources.  But hopefully you will find something useful from the myriad of sources that have been helpful for me.

One particular book that has been helpful for me is the classic "A Grief Observed" by C.S. Lewis.  Written in 1961, Lewis originally wrote the book under the pseudonym of N.W. Clerk.  It might be puzzling why Lewis decided to do this, until you start reading it.  Lewis had just lost his wife, Joy Davidman, the previous year.  Lewis refers to his wife pseudonymously as "H." throughout the book.

What I love about this book is the fact that Lewis does not come off as the confident, steadfast, never-doubting Christian theologian that some might imagine him to be.  If anything, he invites us into his world of emptiness and misery and apathy, where even simple tasks are hard to accomplish:

"And no one ever told me about the laziness of grief....I loathe the slightest effort.  Not only writing but even reading a letter is too much.  Even shaving.  What does it matter now whether my cheek is rough or smooth?"

Even more insightful is his attitude towards God, which has shifted quite dramatically upon the death of his wife:

"Meanwhile, where is God?  This is one of the most disquieting symptoms.  When you are happy....you will be....welcomed with open arms.  But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is in vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside.  After that, silence.  You may as well turn away.  The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become."

Lewis doesn't lose his faith in spite of his terrible loss, and the book is an intimate look into the mind of a great man who eventually comes to realize that we may never get the answers to the questions we seek, and he's okay with that:

"When I lay these questions before God, I get no answer.  But a rather special sort of 'No answer.'  It is not the locked door.  It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze.  As though he shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question.  Like, 'Peace, child; you don't understand!'"

At only 89 pages (some editions have an extended afterword by Chad Walsh, a professor at Beloit College who was personally acquainted with Lewis), "A Grief Observed" is a quick read, but one filled with numerous insights and wisdom about the struggles one endures while learning to live with loss.