Yesterday afternoon a dear friend of mine texted me, asking if I had any plans for this evening. In the current chaos that envelopes my life I must confess to preferring to spend as many evenings as I am able doing next to nothing. It’s a bit of a stress relief, though honestly not likely a good for you kind of coping outlet. But in this case as she further elaborated in her reply I felt the desire join her in this outing she offered.
Have you ever heard of the Angel of Hope, or of the story behind it? Even after attending and hearing about it there tonight, I do not yet feel I could do it justice in any form of retelling. So I will leave that to you to read up on.
For a brief summary I believe there are currently just over 160 worldwide, and all are meant as a place to honor the lives of children that are gone too soon, and are meant specifically as a place of hope and a little healing for the parents and families and friends of them. From what little I can see there is usually a place for individualized memorial bricks either at the base of the angel statue or in a wall near the angel statue.
And on this very day, every year, at 7:00pm sharp there is a Candlelight Memorial service at each of these locations. I believe that the local one has only ever had to miss one of these services since it arrived here, and that was due to icy roads.
In this nearby town there is a lovely garden. It is a wonderful little garden getaway, with some winding paths, some seating, a pond, and lovely garden spots throughout. Tucked away here is a path that leads to their resident Angel of Hope. This one is placed on a roundish rock base, and the base of it is encircled by the memorial bricks, with names and years on them.
We met up there tonight with others, and after getting a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate we were directed along to a table with a gentleman behind it ensuring that we each were given a votive candle holder, complete with a lighted tea light candle, and a pale carnation.
We were then pointed in the direction down a path where you could see a ways off the angel statue. Tonight pathway lights softly lighted the walk-way there, softened a little more by the very misty rain. More mist than rain, really.
I am not yet familiar with this ceremony, so I am sure that I missed much in it’s relatively short duration, as I was looking around and trying to listen all at the same time that my own thoughts were going off and on to my own lost little one.
I did not know anyone there, other than the two that I came with. Though not fully freezing it was chilly, and many of us were bundled up a little. Just a batch of normal, everyday people, most lost in our own thoughts.
In the midst of my own thoughts I was drawn to one woman in particular. As my head was bowed, and eyes not really closed during the prayer I noted just to the front and left of me a pair of feet in sparkly gold (I think, it was dark out) sandals. I remember thinking to myself something along the lines of ‘man, aren’t her feet too cold about now?’
Then I looked up. She was a well put together woman, a bit older than me. She had slightly casual, but rather stylish clothes on, with a fun shorter hair cut. I think she might have just stood up from placing her candle and flower on a particular brick.
But her face… still a bit teary. She looked sad. Not the ‘oh, I feel a little sad today’ kind of sad, but the sad to your very bones kind of sad. But oddly, along with that sadness she just radiated both love (I am assuming for that one she lost) and hope. What an odd mixture!
I don’t know if anyone else saw it, or if she even realized that these were at all noticeable on her. I tried not to stare, or to show that I had seen it.
But I wondered… I wondered about her own loved one lost. What was this child to her? Her own? A close relative? How long had it been? Where these memories bringing on those emotions sad memories surrounding the loss, or were these cherished memories of happier times?
Then I thought again about what I saw in her. I know that person. Not that woman in particular, but I know what it is to have all those feelings, all unbelievably mixed up in a single moment.
These places we each go, while pulled into the moments of our remembrance of them… for each individual, and for each remembrance the variables are endless. I wish I knew how best to stress the truth and importance of this. The emotions and images evoked – sharp or cloudy, painful or cherished, heavy or joyous, are unique to us. Are carried only by us in that moment. It is in the remembering…
And in the remembrance is honoring.
I am so beyond thankful to my dear friend, and to any garden worldwide that held a similar ceremony this evening, for allowing me and others like me the place and a time for that remembrance.
Thank you..
Of Loss and Love 