Latin translations:
Mors - Death
Funebrae – Funeral
Lilium - Lily
Epistolium - Letter
This three-part poetic short story was inspired by recent events. Someone I know lost her child, and it weighed very heavily on my heart, even though I did not know her well. I began thinking of the process of death and mourning...how she walked through it. Her daughter had a disease that took her at a young age, and I had a feeling that she always stayed strong, like a fortress, for her daughter, but once she died, it came crashing down. So I wrote this.
I see the process of grief and mourning in three parts: the death, the funeral, and the freedom (the lily). The death is the blurriest part, the part where things are felt in heartbeats and seen in snapshots, of the rawest emotion. The funeral is planned, arrangements are made, the body is seen. But once the loved one is put in the ground, I feel like at that moment is when "the Realization" comes in, when you are physically separated from that person by layers and layers of earth. They're down there, and they're not coming back.
White lilies are often used in funerals, and represent restored innocence after death, specifically. This hit a cord with me, because with children I feel like they always retain their innocence, through life and death. But in this specific case, I thought of restored innocence as restored freedom. Innocence that was taken away by a disease, restored. Wherever that child is right now, she can run and jump and be free.
And so can the mother. Because even on the darkest nights, the sun always rises the next morning. The new Realization hits: the impact that child made on her life. The valuable life lessons that daughter taught her. Her heart is still heavy and missing a piece, but she can emerge from her grief with newfound freedom, and with a deeper insight on the world, on kindness and compassion and perseverance.
Thank you for reading.
