(no subject)
I was listening to Terri Gross interview Joan Diddian on her memoir "The Year of Magical Thinking" about how she dealt with her husband John Gregory Dunne's death in 2003, the same time her daugher was struggling with a serious case of pneumonia. I learned that right after she sent her completed manuscript to her publisher her daughter, aged 39, died. Joan was fascinating and her voice, which never waivered or cracked, sounded so full of pain. I listened to her talk for about 15 minutes and while I sympathized with her and couldn't imagine the enormity of her losses, I didn't get really sad until Terri asked her if she believed in an afterlife. She doesn't.
After that, Joan told an anecdote about a friend of hers who said he went to an Episcopal funeral and he felt the liturgy was so cold. When Joan asked him what he meant, he said "if you don't believe that you'll arrive somewhere after you go, in your own body, and greet all your family and loved ones by their first names when you get there, what's the point of dying?" Joan agreed and wondered what the point was.
I guess there are lots of people in the world who don't believe in anything and when you die, your light is extinguished and you are no more. My beliefs have changed a great deal in the past 6 or 7 years, but one thing I have always been sure of is that there is an afterlife. That my grandparents are drinking beer up there, not sick or old, not gasping for air or itchy and dazed from the morphine meant to dull the pain of dying. When my parents finally go, they'll be there waiting for me, and I'll see them all again. I felt so sad that Joan lost her husband and daughter and knew she would never see them again...ever. She wished she could believe that she would one day, but she could never enjoy that comfort.
Jesus, Allah, hell, heaven, I don't know. But I do know there's something out there for us and I am so sad for Joan who lost her family forever. The only comfort she has, she said, is that one of the reasons we are afraid to die is that we don't want to leave anyone behind. We're afraid that they will be too sad without us, or they won't be able to take care of themselves. She's not afraid though, because she doesn't have anyone to leave behind.
After that, Joan told an anecdote about a friend of hers who said he went to an Episcopal funeral and he felt the liturgy was so cold. When Joan asked him what he meant, he said "if you don't believe that you'll arrive somewhere after you go, in your own body, and greet all your family and loved ones by their first names when you get there, what's the point of dying?" Joan agreed and wondered what the point was.
I guess there are lots of people in the world who don't believe in anything and when you die, your light is extinguished and you are no more. My beliefs have changed a great deal in the past 6 or 7 years, but one thing I have always been sure of is that there is an afterlife. That my grandparents are drinking beer up there, not sick or old, not gasping for air or itchy and dazed from the morphine meant to dull the pain of dying. When my parents finally go, they'll be there waiting for me, and I'll see them all again. I felt so sad that Joan lost her husband and daughter and knew she would never see them again...ever. She wished she could believe that she would one day, but she could never enjoy that comfort.
Jesus, Allah, hell, heaven, I don't know. But I do know there's something out there for us and I am so sad for Joan who lost her family forever. The only comfort she has, she said, is that one of the reasons we are afraid to die is that we don't want to leave anyone behind. We're afraid that they will be too sad without us, or they won't be able to take care of themselves. She's not afraid though, because she doesn't have anyone to leave behind.