‘Sing no sad songs and plant no roses at my feet when I am dead.’
DISTINCTLY remember a poem my father liked to recite often, but almost inaudibly, as if just to himself. I was reminded of it as I quietly marked my mother’s birth anniversary last Thursday when she would have turned 90 – had she not passed away 32 years ago.
A short poem by Christina Rosetti, this poem had an interesting title and topic. It went this way:
“When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.”
There are as many interpretations of the poem as there are people, but for me, my takeaway is this: once a person is dead, everything is ended – feelings such as joy and pain, memory, the smell of things around you, the sights both beautiful and not so.
It tells me that what matters is what matters when you are still alive and can feel and can see, hear, and taste. It’s what I say is choosing between Heaven and Hell – not as some afterlife destination but as a here and now – choosing, for example, to make your life and the life of others as well (hopefully) Heaven on earth or Hell on earth for whatever justifiable reason you can think of.
If you are sensitive enough, the poem is a call to action, to do what you can do now rather than later when all is too late. Give that hug now when the other can still feel it, rather than hugging a coffin with a lifeless body inside. Send the flowers now while they can be smelled and appreciated, rather than as a ribboned wreath to stand beside a coffin or to rest atop a tombstone.
“When I am dead, my dearest” also made me realize over the years that when we visit our loved ones at their graves on their birth or death anniversaries, we are not doing it for them; we are doing it for ourselves. Maybe we want to make up for all the times we didn’t visit while they were alive, the times we didn’t bring flowers, or at least give them a call or a callback. They’re dead; they can no longer see, feel or hear. But maybe we have feelings of remorse or guilt we want to assuage and so we go bearing flowers and candles; you see, if all we want is for them to know we remember and love them, that we can do anywhere and anytime because our loved ones are always with us.
To be able to care for (or even just regularly visit) a relative as he or she nears the end is fraught with so many challenges – financial to most, emotional to all. But it is also accompanied by that unique opportunity to do what you can or even say what you like for the other to feel or hear. So that when the end comes you won’t be nagged by thoughts of what could have been said or done, guaranteeing both your deceased loved one and yourself a peaceful rest from that day onward.
Sing no sad songs and plant no roses at my feet when I am dead. Sing with me and let’s smell the roses while we’re alive!