(no subject)
On parties, funerals, and other things I have been chewing on since November.
One of my absolute favorite people held, what seemed like, a random party a few summers ago. She invited everyone she knew and just kept her house open the whole day. I attended it. I had a great time, and I got to meet and re-meet many people. It wasn't a holiday or birthday party. In fact, before attending I worried that my friend was dying. Suddenly needing to reconnect with old friends isn't always a good sign. Finally, as the party started to wind down I asked what had inspired her to throw such an event for no reason. She said simply 'I was tired of seeing my friends at funerals.'
I thought she was being funny.
Before my Aunt passed away last year she made it known that she was not interested in having a funeral. She wanted it to be a party, where she would be the center of attention. There would be music and good food and everyone was required to stand around and say nice things about her. And my uncle made it happen. There were examples of her quilting and lace hung up everywhere, along with pictures of her with family and friends. And the place was packed to bursting with people. Hell, I even met a cousin I never knew I had. There were musicians who played on my Aunt's instruments and a group of her lace making students (side note: lace makers are really intense people). The point that I'm trying to eventually get to is this: I didn’t know my Aunt was a musician. I didn't know any of her friends. I knew about her lace and her quilts, but I was unaware of the scope of her body of work. What I knew of my Aunt was a very small part of her entirety.
People do tend to compartmentalize, don't they? If I died tomorrow my funeral would be a modest affair. My circle of friends isn't large, but of very high quality. But that isn't what this is about. It's about how people are grouped. I have my family, and I have my Rhode Island friends, I have my Mt. Holyoke friends, I have my Simmons friends, and I have my work friends. Some I have had forever and some I would like to keep for the rest of my life. I have very close friends, and some friendly acquaintances. I would like to think that if everyone were placed in the same room that they would all get along. But I have to wonder. I am a different person at the VA then I am at home, or in class. I suppose it makes sense that I would attract different kinds of friends. But that isn't what this is about, either.
I don't think it's possible to know someone in their entirety. You can't know the all of another human being. I am not angry or sad that my Aunt did not share more of herself with me, but rather I am in awe of how vast her life was. Every person who came to her party knew a different woman than I knew. There was no wrong version of her. She meant something different to each of us. I think that to know someone you have to know what they mean to the people in their lives. My Aunt meant a lot to a lot of different people.
I think that when someone throws a party they are, in a way, revealing themselves to their friends. The person throwing it has some control over what is seen, since they pick who they invite. Funerals might be the ultimate reveal, since the person it centers around can't take any names off the guest list. When Solace opened her house up to friends that summer I was allowed to witness more of who she was.
For the first time in a long time I played around with the idea of throwing a birthday party. It didn't happen for a varity of reasons, but for most of my life I actively avoided that kind of thing. I am also thinking about having a graduation party in May. It's not about celebrating my accomplishments. I'm not going to be a doctor or a lawyer. I just feel… I just feel that people should throw more parties. Even me, as unremarkable and unpopular as I sometimes think I am.
Maybe I need my worth as a person to be reinforced. Maybe losing someone who acted as my emtional safety net lit a desire to gather people around me. I don't know. I don't throw parties, and I'm starting to see that as a mistake. I think Solace had it right. Sometimes we should celebrate just for the hell of it. I want my friends to know each other. They're all such excellent people. And, I suppose, I don't want people to get to know me after I'm gone. That's much more bitter than sweet.
One of my absolute favorite people held, what seemed like, a random party a few summers ago. She invited everyone she knew and just kept her house open the whole day. I attended it. I had a great time, and I got to meet and re-meet many people. It wasn't a holiday or birthday party. In fact, before attending I worried that my friend was dying. Suddenly needing to reconnect with old friends isn't always a good sign. Finally, as the party started to wind down I asked what had inspired her to throw such an event for no reason. She said simply 'I was tired of seeing my friends at funerals.'
I thought she was being funny.
Before my Aunt passed away last year she made it known that she was not interested in having a funeral. She wanted it to be a party, where she would be the center of attention. There would be music and good food and everyone was required to stand around and say nice things about her. And my uncle made it happen. There were examples of her quilting and lace hung up everywhere, along with pictures of her with family and friends. And the place was packed to bursting with people. Hell, I even met a cousin I never knew I had. There were musicians who played on my Aunt's instruments and a group of her lace making students (side note: lace makers are really intense people). The point that I'm trying to eventually get to is this: I didn’t know my Aunt was a musician. I didn't know any of her friends. I knew about her lace and her quilts, but I was unaware of the scope of her body of work. What I knew of my Aunt was a very small part of her entirety.
People do tend to compartmentalize, don't they? If I died tomorrow my funeral would be a modest affair. My circle of friends isn't large, but of very high quality. But that isn't what this is about. It's about how people are grouped. I have my family, and I have my Rhode Island friends, I have my Mt. Holyoke friends, I have my Simmons friends, and I have my work friends. Some I have had forever and some I would like to keep for the rest of my life. I have very close friends, and some friendly acquaintances. I would like to think that if everyone were placed in the same room that they would all get along. But I have to wonder. I am a different person at the VA then I am at home, or in class. I suppose it makes sense that I would attract different kinds of friends. But that isn't what this is about, either.
I don't think it's possible to know someone in their entirety. You can't know the all of another human being. I am not angry or sad that my Aunt did not share more of herself with me, but rather I am in awe of how vast her life was. Every person who came to her party knew a different woman than I knew. There was no wrong version of her. She meant something different to each of us. I think that to know someone you have to know what they mean to the people in their lives. My Aunt meant a lot to a lot of different people.
I think that when someone throws a party they are, in a way, revealing themselves to their friends. The person throwing it has some control over what is seen, since they pick who they invite. Funerals might be the ultimate reveal, since the person it centers around can't take any names off the guest list. When Solace opened her house up to friends that summer I was allowed to witness more of who she was.
For the first time in a long time I played around with the idea of throwing a birthday party. It didn't happen for a varity of reasons, but for most of my life I actively avoided that kind of thing. I am also thinking about having a graduation party in May. It's not about celebrating my accomplishments. I'm not going to be a doctor or a lawyer. I just feel… I just feel that people should throw more parties. Even me, as unremarkable and unpopular as I sometimes think I am.
Maybe I need my worth as a person to be reinforced. Maybe losing someone who acted as my emtional safety net lit a desire to gather people around me. I don't know. I don't throw parties, and I'm starting to see that as a mistake. I think Solace had it right. Sometimes we should celebrate just for the hell of it. I want my friends to know each other. They're all such excellent people. And, I suppose, I don't want people to get to know me after I'm gone. That's much more bitter than sweet.