Jay Lake Memorial . . . Thing
So . . . we all gathered at the Six Arms today, ostensibly in honor of Jay. A lot of folks were there. I knew all of them. We greeted each other, hugged. We ordered food. We talked a little about Jay. We talked about a lot of other things. And then ebourne and I left. We went and had ice cream. And . . . that was it.
I have been dreading today. The closer we got to it, the less I wanted to go. E and I went together to stave off that reluctance, and I think it was the right thing to do for both of us. In the end, though, it was all rather anti-climactic and, for someone like me who values ritual, it ultimately left me feeling at loose ends. I still don't know what it is I am to do with . . . whatever it is I'm feeling. It's not like I'm a stranger to death or mourning; I don't need to be told what to do or how to handle this. It's just . . . everything is weird and reversed and I'm kind of frustrated and angry with it, and today only exacerbated that feeling.
When it was decided that there would be a JayWake--that pre-mortem party thrown so that Jay himself could attend his own wake, as I noted at the time, my inner response was, "My mourning is my own business. Get out of my process." I attended--I wrote about my feelings in that link; you can go read it if you like. I thought I was OK with it all. Tonight, I wonder if I wasn't dancing around things a bit.
Wakes, funerals, memorials, life celebrations, generally are for those left behind. But ultimately, JayWake was all about Jay, not those in attendance--which, I understand now, did in fact f*ck with the social construct and purpose of a wake. It was more of a roast than a wake, one more JayCelebration for Jay rather than rite of passage and healing for those to be left behind--great for Jay, not so great for the rest of us.
With a private memorial that so few were invited to attend, a lot of us were just sort of cast off to deal with stuff on our own. Today's gathering was thrown together quickly, with no formal structure of any kind--which I'm told is what a lot of people wanted, no structure, just an amorphous gathering. Well, it didn't do much for me. As I said at the beginning here, I'm left frustrated and angry. I feel like our mourning process--well, I shouldn't speak for anyone else--I feel like my mourning process has been circumvented, devalued, as if my need for ritual had to be subsumed in what Jay would have wanted: nothing formal, no, no, can't be a downer, let's all party!
Except, God dammit, Jay isn't here and I'm f*cking tired of doing it the way he would have wanted. He is gone. I am here. We are here. In doing nothing formal, we're not talking about the thing we all need to talk about most. We are being very American, oh so 21st century, very atheist, and very Seattle: passive aggressively pretending that nothing was wrong because it's too hard to cry together, to mourn together, to publicly, explicitly acknowledge in each other's company that we hurt so that we can hurt--together--and start to heal.
I am not done with this. I want to find a way to ritualize a farewell. If anyone wants to have a more formal farewell than we've had, well, we should talk about it. The hell with what Jay would have wanted. He's gone. We're here. How we feel counts. And today? Today felt like one more exercise in creative denial.
I have been dreading today. The closer we got to it, the less I wanted to go. E and I went together to stave off that reluctance, and I think it was the right thing to do for both of us. In the end, though, it was all rather anti-climactic and, for someone like me who values ritual, it ultimately left me feeling at loose ends. I still don't know what it is I am to do with . . . whatever it is I'm feeling. It's not like I'm a stranger to death or mourning; I don't need to be told what to do or how to handle this. It's just . . . everything is weird and reversed and I'm kind of frustrated and angry with it, and today only exacerbated that feeling.
When it was decided that there would be a JayWake--that pre-mortem party thrown so that Jay himself could attend his own wake, as I noted at the time, my inner response was, "My mourning is my own business. Get out of my process." I attended--I wrote about my feelings in that link; you can go read it if you like. I thought I was OK with it all. Tonight, I wonder if I wasn't dancing around things a bit.
Wakes, funerals, memorials, life celebrations, generally are for those left behind. But ultimately, JayWake was all about Jay, not those in attendance--which, I understand now, did in fact f*ck with the social construct and purpose of a wake. It was more of a roast than a wake, one more JayCelebration for Jay rather than rite of passage and healing for those to be left behind--great for Jay, not so great for the rest of us.
With a private memorial that so few were invited to attend, a lot of us were just sort of cast off to deal with stuff on our own. Today's gathering was thrown together quickly, with no formal structure of any kind--which I'm told is what a lot of people wanted, no structure, just an amorphous gathering. Well, it didn't do much for me. As I said at the beginning here, I'm left frustrated and angry. I feel like our mourning process--well, I shouldn't speak for anyone else--I feel like my mourning process has been circumvented, devalued, as if my need for ritual had to be subsumed in what Jay would have wanted: nothing formal, no, no, can't be a downer, let's all party!
Except, God dammit, Jay isn't here and I'm f*cking tired of doing it the way he would have wanted. He is gone. I am here. We are here. In doing nothing formal, we're not talking about the thing we all need to talk about most. We are being very American, oh so 21st century, very atheist, and very Seattle: passive aggressively pretending that nothing was wrong because it's too hard to cry together, to mourn together, to publicly, explicitly acknowledge in each other's company that we hurt so that we can hurt--together--and start to heal.
I am not done with this. I want to find a way to ritualize a farewell. If anyone wants to have a more formal farewell than we've had, well, we should talk about it. The hell with what Jay would have wanted. He's gone. We're here. How we feel counts. And today? Today felt like one more exercise in creative denial.