Memento Mori: The Hidden Language of October
“For you are dust, and to dust you shall return” (Genesis 3:19).
Autumn is a contemplative time of year.
Do you remember that moment in “Anne of Green Gables” when Anne remarks on how happy she is to live in a world where there are Octobers? I love that part. In fact, the scene seems to play on loop in my brain from the moment the first cool breeze of Autumn slips into the air.
The crisp air.
The wild colors.
The smells.
There’s something about the fall, and whatever it is, it inebriates my being.
Undeniably, when cooler weather begins, something ethereal spikes the air — a symbiotic blend of magical and melancholy. Everything that was once bright and fun is overtaken by a fiery hue, both stunning and haunting. It is nature’s passion; she is about to undergo her martyrdom, and for what?
Perhaps, the secret of October is the poignant reminder that this life is fleeting: things we’ve clung to fade away. Joy and sorrow are not enemies, but mystically linked. Death comes to us all. Goodness remains.
Life is Changed, Not Ended
“The Christian who unites his own death to that of Jesus views it as a step towards him and an entrance into everlasting life” (Catechism of the Catholic Church,1020).
A film and novel I cannot recommend enough is “The Song of Bernadette” by Franz Werfel. At the end, as Bernadette draws her last breath, her priest warmly states, “Your life begins, O Bernadette.”
We often shy away from the topic of death. It can seem scary and confusing. But for the Christian, death should be a daily remembrance. We were made for Heaven; this world is not our home. To the good and faithful servant, death is not the end, but the beginning of a truly joyous life. Yes, it’s so easy to get caught up in the now, chasing after vanity and building castles in the sand.
Life’s brevity can catch us unaware. And the pain of losing people we love is indescribable. But each moment we have on this earth is a gift, and we should use our time to sing out in glory to God. Like the sweet flowers of summer, we should spend our days on earth reflecting the beauty of their Creator to all who encounter them.
Reorienting Toward the Divine
Life is punctuated by constant reminders of finitude. Things change all the time. Seasons we cherished slip through our fingers. And suddenly we find ourselves asking, “How has time gone by so fast?”
At this time of year, when so many people decorate with gravestones and skeletons, the concept of Memento Mori comes to mind. These words — remember your death — are not macabre or “spooky,” but a charge to reorient ourselves to the Divine. Let us first die to ourselves by shedding off the ways of old and begin anew, with renewed fervor and courage. Let us frequent the sacraments, pray, and sacrifice. In doing so, we are fortified by the love of Christ; His grace is sufficient.
With Him, we can run the good race. I can’t think of anything more encouraging or hopeful, for it is only through that shedding — a death to self — that we can come to the glory of spring and one day to the glory of Heaven.
I love October because it reminds me that death is not to be feared. One day, please God, we will awake to our true lives with Him.
“I am so glad to live in a world where there are Octobers.” — “Anne of Green Gables”
Ann Burns is the founder of The Feminine Project, an organization dedicated to restoring the joy of womanhood. She is a writer and speaker and strives to uphold what is truly good and beautiful. Most of all, she is a wife and mother and loves to share the joy in living each day well.