We buried a judge today.
Her name was Maria and she served as a judge in Budapest for forty years; more than twenty of those years as a member of the Hungarian Supreme Court. She died on November 1st; Dead Man's day.
How did I come to attend this event?
Maria is my wife's brother's mother-in-law.
She was more than a judge. She was a wife, a mother, and a grandmother. I didn't know her very well, having only met her a couple of times. The second time we met was when I went with my wife to their home. They gave me a present for my 50th birthday. It felt to me as if they were saying, "You are part of our family."
The funeral was moving as expected. A gray sky hovered over black coats and dresses. There were couple of hundred people and lot of flowers. She was obviously very well loved. During the ceremony, a man read the story of her life. I don't speak Hungarian so I'm not sure what it all entailed but, her being a judge makes me think that she'd accomplished a lot in her life.
She was a small woman, not one you would necessarily notice on the street. And if you failed to do so, it would be your loss.
As I watched others during the ceremony, I tried to feel the grief, if only for a moment, that others closest to her felt. It was a very moving experience. A husband that would probably give anything for just a few more hours with his wife; a granddaughter in law school who was going to study Civil Law with her grandmother next semester; A daughter whose mom was always there and who still is but on a different plane.
Funerals seem to be such a final step. It's as if some of us may have been hoping the entire death was a nightmare and we need the ceremony to make us finally understand, the end is here. For her - it's here.
So much life is lost when one dies. How is it that we can ever hope to come to terms with such a thing. If we are what our experiences have made us, then when we die, all that remains is what others experienced with us or through us. This can only be a small portion of what one actually was.
The loss of Maria, like all losses, was huge. Maybe not to you, and maybe not to me. But to those that knew her well, it is a heavy burden to bear. I've lost loved ones in the past. It hurts and there is no end in sight. That is part of the pain, the illusion that you will suffer the loss at that initial grief level forever.
This is why we have funerals. We have them for the closure. We also have them to share our grief with each other; so we can take turns being strong for each other when even the strongest amongst us is sometimes too weak.
I believe there is one reason above all others for having such a ceremony.
We have them because we don't know what else to do.
It rained today, but just enough for us to appreciate it when it stopped.
We buried a judge today; under a cloudy, but mostly dry sky. Then afterward, the heavens wept.
To Maria, I say...
Up, up and away...
