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Writer's picturePeter Strobel

"Seeing Thestrals" - CPE Memorial Reflection at Research Medical Center - August 7, 2021

Context: I was a CPE chaplain at Research Medical Center in Kansas City, MO during the summer of 2021. For context, Research is a Trauma 1 hospital and the timing of my internship coincided with the mass Delta Covid-19 strain, which hit Missouri especially hard. Tragically, this meant there was no shortage families who lost loved ones. As hospital chaplains, my colleagues and I were responsible for the memorial service that would remember the deceased.

I was picked to offer a word during the service. Since we did not know the faith of each family, or each of the deceased, it had to be an ecumenical service. So, while I would usually talk about Christ, I used the metaphor of thestrals (creatures from Harry Potter that can only be seen by those who have witnessed death) to touch on the change that death brings. I still carry the image of thestrals in the back of my head and offer it as the best way to explain the unexplainable. After all, how does one explain the impact of death to one who has not witnessed it?


The Reflection:

In an ecumenical space, it is hard to talk about death without defaulting to the beliefs of one’s religious tradition. Today, instead of taking a passage from a holy text, I offer a text that many of us, regardless of our religious backgrounds, or lack thereof, are familiar with; Harry Potter. Those who have read Harry Potter or seen the movies might be familiar with thestrals, creatures that could only be seen by those who have witnessed death first-hand.


At first glance, thestrals are ugly, scary, and generally something to avoid. Upon seeing them, someone might wish they were invisible again. However, once they can be seen, they cannot be unseen. Although they are merely a figment of an author’s imagination, the idea of thestrals ties into the reality that death changes us. When we encounter death, we experience a new life.


Birth and death are more than polar opposites. While one is a beginning and the other an end, they are but the briefest of moments. Between beginning and end, during what we know as life, we experience everything, dividing our moments by days, filling our precious time without knowing when our chapters end.


Today, as we gather to remember all those we have lost, I invite everyone to consider the stories of all who have passed. Although their days on Earth are at an end, their stories are not over. If they are remembered, each precious family member or friend will live on through the lives of all who hold them in their hearts. Maybe in the bittersweet memory of a favorite coffee spot that will not be the same without a friend, or the family recipe that won’t taste the same without grandma’s special touch. As you all experience the ups and downs of grief, I hope you might consider love’s part in this process.


Without love, death would lack meaning and life would be dull. As a splash of color in a world of gray, love colors everything in all shades so that we are blessed to feel the joy of being known. However, everything has a price. Other than Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper, few make contracts for love and relation, yet that does not mean none exist. While marriage certificates and birth certificates signify relation and responsibility, it is easy to overlook what “in sickness and health” entails for any relationship. If we are lucky enough to be born into loving families and expand to add friends and peers, we might be unprepared for the cost of good fortune.


When we touch love, we leave ourselves open to loss. In our hearts, we all know we will die, and that all the people we love will die, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Maybe that is why, in the rush of life, blessings are taken for granted and future pains get passed off so that, like clouds on a sunny day, they do not ruin the moment. It is so easy to prolong saying “I love you,” put work before family and friends, and assume we can have quality time later. However, when we are confronted with ends, we are reminded of how precious each second is in a life.


When the time between our beginning and end feels like an eternity, with hard set landmarks of school, marriage, work, children, and retirement, that pull one out of the moment, “later” creeps up on us. Who could have expected to live through a pandemic last year? To have our lives put on hold and, in the most tragic cases, for loved ones to go too soon. How many “laters” are now “nevers.” For those who are left with regrets and “what-if’s,” I hope one day you can believe you are enough and accept that what could have been’s breed future regrets. If we are to escape ghosts of the past, we might heed the painful lessons we learned in the year. Instead of trying to find a nonexistent past “normal,” live in to the present so that those who are past might live on in you.


For all of who are struggling with the loss of a loved one, I am so sorry you have had to go through this. I know words or sayings cannot make it better. Maybe you are dealing with the frustration or pain of grief that will not fade, or favorite places, songs, or anniversaries that were once so full of life, now feel haunted. Maybe, no matter what you are doing, you can’t stop seeing thestrals. But maybe that just reveals how genuine your love is and was.


All who love will know loss. The deeper the love, the more devastating the loss. No matter how much it hurts, take this moment to think of your loved one, and feel the love that keeps them in your heart. While many religions have their own thoughts on eternal life, few forces are more powerful or lasting than the endurance of memory. If your initial instinct is to shut off the pain or think of anything other than your loved one, be kind to yourself and take the time necessary to feel everything. But, for your sake, please let yourselves feel it.


Your love is a living memorial that, like a physical memorial, remains to share a memory for those who come after. While anniversaries, birthdays, shopping trips, and other triggers might still hurt, one day, they can be the memorials that keep you connected to your love that endures, and they can be the means to pass that memory to friends, children, grandchildren, neighbors, and others who will be changed by a life that is still being lived in memory. Maybe the pain you feel now, can later can be transformed into a bitter sweet joy in the future. So, even though we might be walking alongside thestrals, we might find that joy, peace, and love remain for those who remember the dead.




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