Keeping the spark of forgotten ancestors alive

My last visit to San Franciso corresponded with the Remembrance of the Dead Day. Not intentionally - I timed my visit to the Internal Family Systems workshop in a Franciscan retreat center close to Danville, a little peaceful place in the mountains an hour away. But I will never leave a chance to have some traveling fun, so I came to San Franciso a few days ahead to enjoy the city. While walking towards a cruise on San Francisco Bay, I saw an interesting church on the way, and since I had some time, I decided to walk into it. It was November 2nd, the day of remembrance of the dead, and I walked in the right at the beginning of the remembrance prayer that lasted only 15 minutes - talk about synchronicity! There were very few people in the church, the solemn stillness in the air.

First, I remembered my dead relatives who I knew personally - my dad, both of my grandmothers, a grandfather, and an uncle. But then there was my other grandfather, who passed away over 70 years ago when my father was a young man. I know him only through photos and stories my father told me. My daughter does not know anything about him except his name; his other son, my uncle, died childless, so now there are no living people who remember him personally. And when I transit, there would be no one living who will hold any memory of him. His name and his story will disappear entirely from the world. I never cared about preserving the memory of my existence, but for some reason, I was deeply touched by my ancestors whose existence has sunken into oblivion... Memory is a funny thing. It's like the last thread that keeps someone tied to this world, a tiny spark that keeps their story alive. But when there's no one left to remember, that thread dissolves. It's a sad thought as if their existence just fades away.

And a thought came to me—if I live a life that makes a difference, if I leave behind something that helps people and makes their lives better, somehow, my name will be remembered. Maybe my name, the memory of me, will keep sparks of ancestors alive.

Contemplating this newly arisen but deeply rooted desire to keep the presence of my ancestors in the world of the living, I am trying to reconcile it with my belief about the Soul. I believe the Soul is eternal. It moves on and incarnates from lifetime to lifetime. Memory might fade, but the Soul? It just keeps evolving, gathering new experiences. So, where does this need for remembrance, for keeping the knowledge about any particular incarnations alive, come from?

Can these two beliefs find congruence and live together?