I wanted to share some reflections on the memorial service we held for Jon on Sunday May 20th, especially for those who were not part of it, and perhaps to capture them here for those who were, before the memories start to fade. This post reflects my own experience of the service - I would love it if others who took part shared their own here too.
I have always thought that facing the task of planning a service when the grief is so acute is just another cruel part of death, and it felt especially so in the days after Jon's death. How could anything be good enough to honor the special person he was? How do you appropriately honor the life of someone who didn't value it themselves? And how do you navigate this ceremony that is steeped in religious traditions, for a person that was very anti-religion? Although it was a huge struggle to plan it, I am happy to say that it came together beautifully, and I'm glad we did it.
Jon expressed his wishes in the letter he left for me (and you can imagine the sense of obligation I felt to honor them): "I know it isn't up to me or about me but I really wish I could be let go without a wake and funeral. Just something small and private, family only. Thank you Jen." We decided to have a service in Newburyport, because that is the town where Jon chose to live at at time in his life when he sought comfort and a new beginning. I remember being so hopeful when he told me he was moving there - a town so full of beauty and life - that he would partake in some of it. Ten Center Street has a function room upstairs which feels more like someone's family room, and it just felt so appropriate - even the colors on the walls matched the grayish tan fleece jacket that Jon wore more days than not. My dad found a minister, through the funeral home in Ipswich - Reverend Brad Clark - who guided us in the planning process and delivered an incredible service, managing to steer away from religious talk (I might have reminded him once or twice how important this was). When he prayed, he prayed to the "spirit of love" (who can't relate to that?), and he talked about the power of the connectedness that we all have and how it gives meaning to our lives should we recognize it. Jon couldn't or didn't believe that connectedness was his to have, and therefore, in the words of the minister, asked to be excused. We learned when we met Brad that his own brother had taken his life 3 years ago - his ability to relate to our pain just added more meaning to the service.
There were 2 readings during the service - the first read by Joy, and the second by Bonnie. At the end of the service, 3 eulogies were delivered - first was mine. What can I say? It was the hardest thing I've ever had to write. Anguishing over the need to make something perfect is something Jon and I have in common, and so often that week I imagined him now able to tell me that I shouldn't do that to myself. I somehow got through delivering it, and was truly proud to have done it, for Jon. The next one was delivered by Dave - Jon's closest cousin - who gave us all a much needed chance to laugh, and to remember that Jon too had many good times in his short life. The final speaker was Bonnie - a long time friend of the family who was Jon's therapist about 5 years ago. What a gift, to have someone who not only knew Jon and his struggles, but also could speak authoritatively about the pain we are all feeling around his death, which she too felt immensely. She shared her strong belief that Jon is now with our mother, completely at peace, where he belongs.
After the formal part of the service wrapped up, we shared a meal together, and during that time, invited others to share anything they wanted to. As my cousin Jeff said later, it was so powerful to create a space where so many people felt comfortable sharing what was in their hearts and minds, in honor of Jon. Equally powerful is the sadness I feel that Jon never saw how loved and admired he was, and that he wasn't able to let the strong ties of our family hold him up when he needed support.
As we shared the meal, a slideshow (put together by my cousin Sarah) played on a loop, with a song in the background that I came to learn was a favorite of Jon's, from the exchanges his friends had in the days following his death. About the album the song is part of, Ivan wrote: "There is most certainly a correlation between the manic shifts in the music/genre/themes of this record and our brother Jonny's inner turmoil. To pick it apart and find the pain, the anguish, and the missteps is a disservice to the whole; like Jonny it is an impeccably complicated, swirling, and beautiful piece of art." Amen. Rest in peace, my little brother.
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