A death of an old friend, and how my family processes it, after-the-jump ….
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An old friend (and like myself, a Drinking Liberally chapter host) died recently at the age of eighty-seven. I hadn’t seen Peter Hope in a few years, and stumbled across his obit by accident. I knew him to be a retired family physician, an avid hiker (leading groups as an Appalachian Mountain Club guide), a part-time post office employee in retirement and, of course, as a liberal meet-up host.
Attending his memorial service (he had been cremated), I heard most speak about the first three avocations (with the priest mentioning in passing “political meet-ups”!!). His daughter read the lyrics to Bob Dylan’s Forever Young, the pianist played both Simple Gifts and This Land is Your Land, and the closing hymn was … Where Have All the Flowers Gone? Can’t say that’d happen in my family.
Yet I did notice a commonality with my own family, as with those attending: almost no one wore black, and they (along with the family) were rather composed. Granted, this took place three weeks after Peter’s death, he apparently suffered two strokes last autumn (so that it was a relief, one daughter noted) and at age eighty-seven, many people mentioned just what a full life he had led … no regrets, nothing left unsaid, etc.
I have been to many funerals over the years (and not ones involving tragedies or children dying) where families seemed utterly broken, where no kind words seem adequate to offer soothing … and yet in my own extended family (my father had four sisters) there was sadness, yet not on the same scale. I lost my father at age twenty, and my mother a few months shy of forty, so it was something I had to deal with at a younger age. In my family’s case, I think it was that my parents spoke about The Wheel of Life— that death is part of life, and not a brick wall.
Today, one reads about the Wheel of Life mostly from life coaches (Tony Robbins would be a prime example) that deal with life’s work/relationships balance. Rather, my parents spoke of what is more akin to a Buddhist concept (though I’m absolutely certain they did not study it, nor does it truly correspond to it). They emphasized our short time on Earth, to follow the Golden Rule and that there is an afterlife (though they did not dwell too much on afterlife).
The first example I can recall was my father bringing my brother (at age nine) and myself (a year older) to the wake of his Uncle Willie (whom we had never met). Dad said he was not especially close to him (nothing sordid, just lost contact) … but added that he wanted Pat and myself to experience a wake. “This is part of growing up” and learning how to conduct oneself, he told us.
Ten years later, when my father died (rather suddenly) that experience helped me cope. I did find myself rattled a bit when I first saw him in the coffin … but after walking outside briefly, upon returning I felt at peace. And while there were moments that I was misty-eyed, I emerged from the experience intact … much more concerned that, at age twenty, my youth had ended, and adulthood was now beginning. When we invited some of us kids’ friends, my mother asked them not to wear black … which may seem odd to many people.
Twenty years later, when my mother died after a series of strokes — so that this time, it was more of a relief — again, our nuclear (and extended) family handled it all in stride. The same held true for the loss of my aunts and uncles.
Yet over the years I kept wondering …. was I repressing something? One reads in the newspapers accounts of those who grieve (many years later) over traumatic events, often from their youth. Finally, a year before her death last decade, I told this to my Aunt Kaye, who suggested that I had processed it in own way, and that by contemplating the issue — and finding no repercussions — perhaps I had answered my own question.
Abbey always seemed to have just the right song in mind.
Now, on to Top Comments:
From my colleague Tara the Antisocial Worker:
In the Write On diary, tonight's assignment from NoBlinkers was to write a story of someone having to experience being in another person's shoes. Xaxnar'scontribution was very relevant to recent political news.
And from Ed Tracey, your faithful correspondent this evening .....…
In the front-page story showing GOP leaders posing for photos with … the now-convicted Enrique Tarrio and fellow Proud Boys— democratos performs a valuable service in outlining the statutes they were convicted of.
Next - enjoy jotter's wonderful (and now eternal) *PictureQuilt™* below. Just click on the picture and it will magically take you to the comment featuring that photo.
TOP PHOTOSMay 3rd, 2023
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And lastly: yesterday's Top Mojo - mega-mojo to the intrepid mik ...... who rescued this feature from oblivion:
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