They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.— Laurence Binyon. “For the Fallen.”
Fran and I have shared a great many adventures, trips, and experiences in our thirteen years as friends. Few have been as moving as accompanying her to the recent Twilight in the Park event in Fran’s home city of Portland, Maine. Organised by the Hospice of Southern Maine, Twilight in the Park is a community event to remember and celebrate loved ones who have died, and their families, friends, and caregivers. This year’s event was held on Saturday September 29 in Deering Oaks Park. Fran was keen to attend, and took me with her virtually by video call. The following details are from the hospice website.
Imagine thousands of luminarias glowing warmly at dusk, each light representing someone who has brought love and light into our lives. At Twilight, thousands of luminarias are lit, each one bearing the name of a loved one being remembered, or a special person being honored. Many find this evening to be a profound and transformative experience in the process of healing. Twilight is open to everyone, regardless of whether you’ve had a loved one in our care.
The event was very well attended. People were standing, sitting, or walking slowly around the empty splash pool which was lined with lanterns. We bumped into a lady Fran knew who was there with her friend. Fran introduced me as her best friend from England, and I got to say hello. I’m always surprised at how effortlessly people accept my virtual presence when I’m out with Fran. We found a vantage point on the bridge overlooking the pool. The event began with the song Somewhere Over the Rainbow, followed by a welcome by Mark Jones, Board Chair of the Hospice of Southern Maine. There were further songs, including The Beatles’ Let it Be, and words of remembrance and tribute by HSM Chaplain Larry Greer. The words weren’t always perfectly audible to me over our video call but I recognised Laurence Binyon’s “For the Fallen.”
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
Fran found the rendition of Taps by Sgt Bryan Noyes especially moving. The twenty-four note melody was used as call for lights out during the American Civil War. Today it’s best known as the nation’s official Song of Remembrance and is played to remember those who have given their lives in the service of the United States.There was also a reading of the poem “Four Candles.” This was new to me but I found it very evocative.
The first candle represents our grief. The pain of losing you is intense. It reminds us of the depth of our love for you.
The second candle represents our courage. The courage to confront our sorrow, to comfort each other, to change our lives.
The third candle we light in your memory. For the times we laughed, the times we cried, the times we were angry with each other, the funny things you did, the caring and joy you gave us.
The fourth candle we light for our love. We light this candle that your light will always shine. We think of you each day and share your memory with our family and friends.
We cherish the special place in our hearts that will always be reserved for you. We thank you for the gift your living brought to each of us. We love you. We remember you.
— Anon
As the event played out below us, my thoughts were with people I’ve known over the years who are no longer here. My dear friend PJ. My beautiful friend Julieta from Mexico, a talented artist and devoted mother. The lady on whose Facebook page Fran and I first met. The sister of a mutual friend, whose life was being celebrated elsewhere by her family and friends that same day.
I thought too about the end of life and legacy work Fran and I have been doing recently. The blog posts I’ve written (to be published later this month) about end of life planning in general, and how I want to be remembered by those I’ll leave behind when the time comes. It came to me that remembrance needn’t be limited to a single event shortly after someone dies. Lives can be commemorated and celebrated time after time, in different ways and by different people, individually or together. That’s helpful because it alleviates the pressure on those responsible for arranging things once we’ve departed. It‘s not necessary to get everything right and complete in one go.
It was dark by the time the chaplain gave his closing remarks. I walked Fran back to her apartment, each of us lost in our individual thoughts, memories, and feelings. I’m grateful to Fran for taking me with her, and to the Hospice of Southern Maine for putting on the event. If you’d like more details of their work, check out their website.
Video call screenshot by Martin Baker.
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