Practicality of Religion

My grandmother died just shy of ninety-one. She was cremated the same as we did for my grandfather several years earlier. We had no funeral or memorial service for her. No gathering of family or loved ones in her honor. No traditional or untraditional function which could have served as a valid reason to take off work, to cry, to space out, to linger over old pictures and mementos, to receive hugs, and casseroles.

My family is out of town. Our traditions are sort of out of this universe. So I was left in the middle of my life to grieve the loss of someone who meant a lot to me. Of whom the memories are rich with texture and life. The recollections came quickly to my mind provoking warm salty tears running down my cheeks like a broken faucet. I considered wandering a random cemetery or hospital hoping not to look so odd.

I found that without an organized religion or tradition I simply didn’t have a place to be at this very vulnerable and lonely time. I realized weather or not I am comfortable with each and every aspect of a particular religion and its traditions, they serve a purpose. They give you something to do and someplace to be during a difficult time.

It is easy to disagree with the tiny details of a religion when you are not in a place of need. Comfort isn’t really in the tiny details, but the overall feeling of safety and togetherness.