That's the word that is going through my head at the moment. It's a word that too often, I think, gets associated with Lent. I looked it up on Google (does anyone look anywhere else these days? - except of course for the new Microsoft Google competitor: Bing) and the definition came back to me with insightful accuracy: A feeling of thoughtful sadness.
I think people expect that the dominant mood in Lent should be melancholy, but I don't. The thoughtfulness yes, but the sadness, no.
However, that's different for me today. My melancholy comes from continuing thoughts of my Grandma. I was pretty much okay with everything, as I said yesterday. How can one be sad for long knowing that she lived for one hundred years - just think of that. I phoned her on her birthday two weeks ago by making a call to my sister's cell phone. Wendy said she thought it was the first time in Grandma's life that she had ever spoken on a cell phone!
My melancholy this evening comes more from the sadness my sister was feeling. I read to her the words I wrote yesterday in this blog, and together we shed some tears as we remembered. They didn't affect me at all that way when I wrote them yesterday, but sharing them with her and hearing them out loud was different. My melancholy also comes from thinking about my aunts - the closest family members to Grandma - her kids.
I'm going to write a tribute to my grandmother that will be read at her funeral. I'm at peace with that as my way of being there for her, and I relish the thought of putting memories of her into words that will be shared with loved ones at the celebration of her life - the second celebration in less than three weeks! It's my way of being there with them, and I am so looking forward to writing it. Even now it is being formed in my mind. I expect it will bring poignant memories to those gathered, but possibly a few smiles and perhaps even a laugh. I think that would make Grandma happy.
I'll take some time off on Thursday during the time of the funeral, and I will imagine all the people gathered listening to what I wrote and together we will be drawn closer over the kilometres of distance, as we remember a good long life, well lived.
So, this is not a Lenten melancholy - just a melancholy and it won't last.
Yellowknife,
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
