One Daughter’s Death Wish: Fake It
I think I’ll start slapping people. Beginning with Carla.
“Are you feeling better about your father yet?” Carla roared cheerfully as I walked into a gathering of friends. Clearly, from the nearly mocking tone, she was not willing to hear one word about gloom.
“Well, no,” I snapped. “He’s only been dead two weeks, Carla. Give me some time.”
I’m no needy friend. My closest confidants probably wish I’d open up more, if anything, and let them in. But my goodness can we show a little respect for the grieving process, or at least fake it?
Carla may have been the bluntest about how I should breeze through this life change, but she was not alone. Most of my less intimate acquaintances made it obvious that I should be, or at least act, untouched. Most followed up their, “I‘m sorry about your father” sympathies rapidly with a dismissive “but it’s all part of life” or “but he lived a good long life” or “you’re lucky you had him for so long.”
Their statements are true, and I’ve expressed them myself with sincerity. But probably two dozen people said such things not to be comforting, but to cancel the conversation before I got sappy or even sentimental. I think they should pretend they care and trust that I’ll be well-mannered enough to change the subject quickly with those same encouraging thoughts. Good manners, in this case, means being a phony.
At first I was okay with folks erasing the chance for a meaningful sentence before I got to say it, since I tend to act stoic anyway. But after so many shunts I’m mad. I understand that many friends lost their fathers long ago; that I’ve lived an independent life for decades so am not affected the way I would have been at 15 or 25; and that Dad was healthy for 78 of his 79 years and did, indeed, have all the elements to deem his life a success: a fruitful career, a long and caring marriage, three devoted children and four loving grandchildren.
So I should be glad it was good and shut up if I feel sad?
Don’t get close. My palm is perched for the next cheek attached to a mouth that doesn’t know how to pretend to be concerned.
I LOVE YOU. Remember that not everyone had the blessing of being raised as wonderful and kindly as you were. I hope I remember my own advice. xoxox
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In the list of life's major events, the death of a parent is a biggie. Why anyone who calls themselves a friend would diminish that is beyond me. I for one would love to listen to you share your feelings on this anytime your heart desires. For you I have nothing but time. I'm sorry about your dad and about the insensitivity of your friends. Love you.
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In the old days . . . and it went out of style only a couple of generations ago . . . people wore black (at least an armband) for a year after the death of a close loved one. Grief is a real and powerful emotion that can come out in strange and harmful ways (such as your friends' insensitivity, or your readiness to slap someone) when it is denied.
Thank heaven for grief and for friends who will share it.
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You tell 'em!!
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Hi Rona. I am in complete sympathy with you. There is something very foolish, annoying, and inhuman about this "just get over it" attitude. The mourning takes a long time - years. We don't "get over it" we live with the sadness and memories. Time allows us to adjust ourselves to it if we can. As Joan Didion wrote in THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING, the funeral is the easiest part since it's all ritual and formulated. Afterwards, we have to think about it on our own. In the old days, people wore mourning clothes for a year or more in order to let others be aware of their situation. In our drive-thru culture, many people have forgotten why this was once done. And even though we don't need to go around wearing black, we still need to mourn our losses. We are human after all and we miss our loved ones terribly when they die. Your friend, Jimmy
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How sad for Carla that her dad is someone she could get over losing in two weeks
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Three thoughts, Rona.
1. I think that your "friends" are trying, genuinely though awkwardly, to express their sympathies for your loss. Because death is such an emotional experience, most of us don't know what to say to someone who is grieving. We therefore try for something that we think is empathetic or comforting. And usually it is at least, banal or at most, offensive. What may be most beneficial to you is to graciously accept their pathetic attempts knowing that they mean well.
2. They are not YOU and thus do not think or express themselves the way you would AND it is unrealistic for you to insist they should. They do not know how you are feeling and therefore do not necessarily know the "right" words that you would like to hear.
3. Anger almost always comes from blame. For you to blame them for their pathetic attemps at comfort is kinda like blaming a dog for being a dog. Your friends are what they are and to blame them for being what they are causes your anger. Accept their attempts and forgive.
I did not know that your father had recently died. I am sorry for that and understand your sadness. Please accept our sympathies.
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Wow. I simply don't know what to say after reading this comment, other than this: Jeri, you need a sensitivity/empathy check. And a filter. I really don't think you understand someone else's sadness at all.
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