In the Cold of Januaries

January is a month of beginnings and transitions. Beyond resolutions, fresh calendars, and cold weather, it is often when our older relatives let go. January, by the numbers, is the month when loss most often arrives.

There were a series of Januaries in the late ’80s and ’90s, usually around the third week, when I stood at gravesides for a grandparent or older relatives. I was young then. My mother was the age I am now. We had our rituals down pat: readings and hymns, followed by baked ham and beans, polished silver, plastic glassware, and all the Irish wake trimmings.

And then there was one January, maybe the second to last or maybe the very last, during an ice storm in Philadelphia. Funeral attendants wore golf shoes to grip the frozen ground. The grandchildren had perfected the delicate art of mourning and celebration. My mother leaned toward the head attendant with a twinkle and a nod and whispered, “We do death well.”

It was the wit the moment needed, and it stayed with me. In many ways, it became the seed of Sailing with Angels, a reminder that amid rituals, community, and even ice storms, there is light to be found.

The harder moment came earlier when I was seventeen, sitting at the bedside of my Grandmother Marjory, the woman who first taught me about angels and who, when I was very young, told me my Grandfather and my cousin Jane would always be with me.

She had fallen and broken her hip. Nearly deaf and long widowed, with all her siblings gone, she looked at me and said clearly and emphatically, “I am ready to let go.”

I was stunned. I turned toward the window, past the parking lot and snow covered golf course  beyond, and wiped the tears from my face. In that moment, she taught me something essential. This was not about me or what I wanted. Life has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and she had reached hers.

I remember thinking, with a dark little laugh, Well, thanks to Adam and that gosh-darn apple, life here does have to end.

What she gave me that day was not despair. It was permission to stop clinging, to trust the shape of a life fully lived, and to understand that letting go can be an act of peace.

Over time, that lesson shaped a few simple practices.

Let it be.
My mother Mary, and the Beatles, understood this well. Build your own playlist. Music steadies us when words fall short.

Take a beat.
As parents and elders pass, rituals evolve. Don’t rush decisions. Not everyone will agree. Someone will argue. Someone will cling to how it has always been done. Give grace anyway.

Prepare.
Conversations matter. Be clear on what your parents want, where opinions differ, how they wish to be celebrated, when to advocate, and when to let go.

Have a buddy. Be a buddy.
I have been one. I needed them. I once found a letter between my mother and a friend, “We are in an unfortunate club of adult orphans,” she wrote. “We must stick together. We are now, the older generation.” It matters to have go-to friends who let you vent, remind you to give grace, and show up.

For me, it was the friend who flew in early to help fold programs while sipping bubbles, the one who brought extra mugs for the fish chowder and bussed tables, the friends who had walked the path ahead of me and shared their tips, and the camp friend ready for any caper that needed a captain. They made all the difference.

Adapt.
When my mother died in March 2020 in the chaos of the COVID shutdown, I was trapped in San Francisco, and my father and siblings were in Boston. There were no formal rituals to share together. I had an awkward last call, as my family sat by her bedside. That next month, I walked daily, listening to her favorite hymns, creating my own makeshift ritual to celebrate her life.

That June, after I made it East and the COVID fog was lifting, my father turned to me one night as I was tucking him into bed and shared it was time for him to find more formal closure. I met his gaze with my mother’s 1990s twinkle, “an ‘Ash Bash’ I will give you”, I pledged. A few days later we gathered on the pond we grew up on, looking out to sea, and with poetry, perspectives and songs, followed by a simple family meal.

When my father died three years later, after Thanksgiving in 2023, schedules, holidays, and two tight-knit communities separated by a ferry made a single service impossible. So we adapted again. One Mass on the Main Land in the third week in January. One open bar on the Island at the start of summer. Rituals matter, but adapting is just fine.

Sailing with Angels

Sailing with Angels began as celebration of the greater community who had raised me, with their wit and their wisdom.  Love does not vanish when someone leaves this world. It changes form. We hold their memories ajar, not sealed shut. And when we do, we discover we are not sailing alone.

Resources

Preparing for the inevitable - I’m Dead Now What? Organizer, while I didn’t use the book myself I find it a clever resource.  For any of us who navigated the logistics of the death of a loved one, ensuring you have this kind of resource is invaluable. Having the conversations with the generation ahead of you, ahead of time makes a huge difference. One of the greatest gifts my parents did was trying to teach us “to do death well.”

Mourning - For me, a long walk and a good playlist help me process it all. I’m sharing the playlist that inspired Sailing with Angels in case it offers comfort to you, too. Writing is also therapeutic. During the week each of my parents passed, I wrote from the heart, capturing the memories and lessons I hold dear. It was cathartic at the time. Those words later became the building blocks of the obituary and the eulogy, and for my father, the last thing I read to him, a love letter of gratitude and one final chance to tease him before he passed away.

Preparing for the Mass - For those of you who are Catholic, below I share options we considered for my grandparents’ and our parents’ service, in case it is of some help. We pulled together readings and hymns that touched a cord from past services, shared the list over a google docs with the siblings and together we finalized the program.  We took care about what we read and who read what. One hack I loved, we had all my father’s God Children share the Prayer of the Faithful.  The conversations we had designing the program and the service itself was meaningful, and a celebration of the faith and teamwork our parents had all instilled in us.  

Preparing for the Ash Bash - We gathered at a beloved family spot, a pond near our childhood home, where we scattered ashes and shared stories, poems, and songs that resonated. One hack I encourage anyone to steal: when my parents were in their 70’s, I asked them to create a journal of their favorite poems and prayers as my Christmas gift. In their generation, reciting poetry mattered, so they began with the verses they still knew by heart, and of course they got a little competitive. I treasure that gift; it proved invaluable when we later planned their services.

Thought Starters for Celebrations of Life

Poems

• Song (When I Am Dead, My Dearest) — Christina Rossetti

• Stop All the Clocks (also known as Funeral Blues) — W. H. Auden

• Under Ben Bulben — W. B. Yeats

• be of love a little more careful, than of everything — e. e. cummings and Sister Corita

Songs

• The Ferryman — The Dubliners

• Beyond the Sea - Bobby Darin

• (What a) Wonderful World - Sam Cooke

• Let It Be — The Beatles

• Hey Jude — The Beatles

• Yesterday — The Beatles

• Morning Has Broken — Cat Stevens

• Moonshadow — Cat Stevens

• Teach Your Children — Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

• Marjorie - Taylor Swift

• When the Saints Go Marching In 

Memorial Service Mass

Front of Program

• Gospel of John 14:27

• Gospel of John 14:1–4

First Reading (Old Testament Options)

• Ecclesiastes 3:1–8

• Sirach 44:1–15 – Hymn in Honor of Our Ancestors

• Book of Daniel 12:1–3

Psalms

• Psalm 23

• Psalm 27

New Testament Reading Ideas

• Book of Revelation 14:13

• Second Letter to the Corinthians 5:1, 6–10

• Book of Revelation 21:1–5a, 6b–7

Gospel Reading

• Gospel of John 14:1–6

• Gospel of John 6:37–40

Hymns

• On Eagle’s Wings

• Make Me a Channel of Your Peace

• May the Road Rise to Meet You

• All Things Bright and Beautiful

• You Are Mine

• Amazing Grace

• Prayer of the Faithful

  For our God Father, x, who lived a life of generosity and dedication to God, that he may be welcomed with love and joy into the heavenly home of the Eternal Father. We pray to the Lord

  For all those family members and friends who tirelessly offered friendship, phone calls , support and care for x that they may be rewarded with peace and consolation for their service. We pray to the Lord

  For all the sick and suffering and for those who care for them, that they may be filled daily with courage and hope. We pray to the Lord

  For the grandchildren and the next generation in x’s orbit, may they be comforted in their grief and follow x’s example of faith and charity. We pray to the Lord

  For our public officials, that they serve honorably and commit to work collaboratively in constructive ways to help our communities thrive. We pray to the Lord.

  For all gathered here to worship in faith, that the bonds which unite us may be strengthened as we look forward in hope to being united one day in the Kingdom of Heaven. We pray to the Lord

  For those who are burdened by their loss be blessed with courage, strength, and patience. We pray to the Lord. 

  For all of us: that we be open to listen, engage in thoughtful conversation, seek common ground, and foster kindness and fellowship. We pray to the Lord

  That x and all who have died be judged in mercy on the last day, and may all of us, the living and the dead, rise in glory and grace on that great day. We pray to the Lord.