(no subject)
Someone I know--a family friend, from church--has been diagnosed with malignant pleural mesothelioma. "Advanced", I am told, though I don't quite know what that means; local invasion into the pericardium is what I'm given to understand, no word on mets. The doctors say, 48 hours to live.
What surprises me about this, what really surprises me, is that my first reaction to this was--sadness. It has been a long time since I've felt sad at someone's death, you know? Long time ago and far far away. Mortality haunts my thoughts from time to time (WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN CANNOT BE UNSEEN, as the cat says), but when I try to find the last time I sorrowed over someone's passing, the last time a death got under my guard...it's a bit like staring into the distance. The foggy distance. I don't know.
I tried to work out why it got me that way; I think it's partially that I actually like these people? The guy's wife, she's the one of'em that I know best, but the family has a lovely streak of COMMON SENSE and pragmatism that I am rather fond of. And...I don't know. I'm not sure why I like them besides that. That IS the big thing, I think. They don't taste as phony as other people do. And I know that, given half the chance, I start to think about my own family's death ("not if but when" is a phrase that seems to have stuck), and then I get lots maudlin. Sympathy (not empathy, because I'm thinking how I feel, not how they feel). But that doesn't explain why it caught me between the ribs, different from other times. Maybe it's the hormones. Always blame the hormones.
Yeah I feel a bit of a douchebag mulling over my own thoughts, my own responses, when someone will likely shortly never ever ever see their husband or father again, but I wanted to pick at it.
What surprises me about this, what really surprises me, is that my first reaction to this was--sadness. It has been a long time since I've felt sad at someone's death, you know? Long time ago and far far away. Mortality haunts my thoughts from time to time (WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN CANNOT BE UNSEEN, as the cat says), but when I try to find the last time I sorrowed over someone's passing, the last time a death got under my guard...it's a bit like staring into the distance. The foggy distance. I don't know.
I tried to work out why it got me that way; I think it's partially that I actually like these people? The guy's wife, she's the one of'em that I know best, but the family has a lovely streak of COMMON SENSE and pragmatism that I am rather fond of. And...I don't know. I'm not sure why I like them besides that. That IS the big thing, I think. They don't taste as phony as other people do. And I know that, given half the chance, I start to think about my own family's death ("not if but when" is a phrase that seems to have stuck), and then I get lots maudlin. Sympathy (not empathy, because I'm thinking how I feel, not how they feel). But that doesn't explain why it caught me between the ribs, different from other times. Maybe it's the hormones. Always blame the hormones.
Yeah I feel a bit of a douchebag mulling over my own thoughts, my own responses, when someone will likely shortly never ever ever see their husband or father again, but I wanted to pick at it.