We scatter these remains to the earth returning creation unto itself.

Out of mystery we are born, and mystery receives us when we die.

There was an audible gasp when they heard he* was gone A whoosh of air that sounded exactly like the bottom falling out of his mother’s** world the winds of mortality brushing his father’s** face the last breath of a kind soul All the years of struggle have settled into silence: Unsought,...

Sleep will come upon our eyelids and they will not ever be lifted again.

The words we cast to fill the silence left by one we loved never are enough.

Spirit of Life, Spirit of Love, we come today carrying our grief, our memories, and our love. We gather around screens and devices, reaching out with our minds and hearts to join in this most ancient of human customs: honoring one whom we loved who has died....

As my body begins to loose its hold On this life, this earth, this entirety, May I lay my past to rest And face the unknowable With courage and curiosity. May those to whom I am connected gather. May they recall me as I am and have been....

Spirit of Life and Love: Under the vast spiral of time and space, surrounded by the simple blessings of a community of care and love, we carry these memories of (our beloved) with us back to the community and life they* loved. We pray: Grant us strength, wisdom, and thanksgiving....

And so I bury my cauldron today I fill it full of salt and place it in the warm earth. Cradle it Persephone! Hold and rock and heal this womb. Take my woes and transform them. I was supposed to be this perfect gateway, and hold the balance of life and death. Well I held life, for a brief moment.

This has been published with "they/their" pronouns; please use the most fitting pronoun in your setting. Claimed by death, we remember [Name]'s life Blessings for a life well lived Blessings for their peaceful departure Blessings for their shared friendships Blessings for their humor and wisdom...

In my small-town congregation, our beloved dead seem to linger with us for a little while.

Holy One, on this day of remembrance we say aloud their names again: the names of those who died this year. Died — the word is jarring. So jarring that we hardly use the word, substituting euphemisms that are a bit more vague. Sometimes people say “lost” when what they mean is dead: “We lost...

Remembering is the art of holding a memory and sharing it; it’s drawing upon that memory so it can help us to grow into people who live lives of meaning and service. As a practice, remembering connects us deeply to each other and to the love that sustains us.

I do not know where we go when we die; And I do not know what the soul is Or what death is or when or why. What I know is that The song once sung cannot be unsung, And the life once lived cannot be unlived, And the love once loved cannot be unloved.

If we are lucky, we will all get a chance during our life to know someone who becomes for us an exemplar of living. And if we are really lucky, we will recognize how they ended up passing on some of their goodness to us. If we are lucky. But one thing is certain. No one – not one of us –...

Our grief is a holy thing. It is that proof that another life touched ours in a profound way. It is the mark of love, the mark of connection, and the mark of a life well lived. We will mourn, we will cry, we will miss (Name)....

I invite you to rise in body or in spirit, and join hands with your neighbors. Hands touch hands. These hands you hold now, once held _________’s hands. Hand by hand we touch those who are here with us, and those who are no longer with us. And hand over hand, we touch all of humanity. Let our...

We offer blessings for life and the end of life. Blessings for the dying. Blessings for the caregiver, holding love and carrying burden. Blessed is the Body. Youth claimed by death. Elder claimed by death. Blessed is all creation moving toward one ending in order to begin again. Let us Bless the...

We remember the joys our departed gave us which opened us up to the life shared which is now ours to steward.

They once dwelled among us, the people of memory.