Life & Death
Jason, Samantha, and I spent the evening at the visitation for the father of a good friend who recently died. Our reactions to the entire event were very different. I mentioned to Jason yesterday that, if we chose to stay through the funeral (which started at 7:30), my mother could watch Sam. Since we decided to go early and skip the main event, I figured we would just take her along. This surprised Jason. He said he was worried that being around so many sad people would be hard on her. Now, I do believe that babies are capable of picking up on the emotions of adults, mainly their caregivers. But I don't think babies need to be shielded from all negative emotion. Truthfully, I was glad that Sam got to see a positive example of grieving. Someone dies --- people gather together --- they talk and hug and support each other.
After we left, Jason was visibly upset. When I asked what was wrong, he chirped: "Nothing. I'm right as rain." This was clearly an indication that he was devastated, so I pushed. He told me that he was feeling sorry for Joel and thinking about his own father dying someday. He also said he was thinking about how hard it would be for Sam when he died. Perhaps I have experienced funeral overload these past few years because nothing so deep and thought-provoking came to my head. Or, rather, maybe those kinds of thoughts are constantly in my head and don't require any sort of ceremony to push them to the front of my consciousness.
I remember sitting at Amanda's grandmother's wake, watching Kyleigh. As sad as it was for the family to lose her, they also had a visible reminder there of her legacy. Life DOES go on. I know I will grieve when I lose my parents, but I also understand in a very tangible, real way that this is the cycle. People die. New people are born. My mother, who works as an LN at a nursing home, recently told me how much she enjoys working with residents who are close to death. She considers it a privilege to be with them in their last moments and help them transition to the other side. It occurred to me that this isn't so different from an OB-GYN or midwife loving to catch babies as they come into the world.
Jason called his dad on the way home. When his dad asked what he was up to, he didn't say: "I'm on my way home from Joel's dad's funeral. It made me think about you, and how much I will miss you when you are gone." That wouldn't be very Jason-like at all. Instead, he said: "Nothing much" and proceeded to engage in small talk for five minutes. Some day, I think Jason will regret that he didn't spend as much time as he could have with his father. . .
After we left, Jason was visibly upset. When I asked what was wrong, he chirped: "Nothing. I'm right as rain." This was clearly an indication that he was devastated, so I pushed. He told me that he was feeling sorry for Joel and thinking about his own father dying someday. He also said he was thinking about how hard it would be for Sam when he died. Perhaps I have experienced funeral overload these past few years because nothing so deep and thought-provoking came to my head. Or, rather, maybe those kinds of thoughts are constantly in my head and don't require any sort of ceremony to push them to the front of my consciousness.
I remember sitting at Amanda's grandmother's wake, watching Kyleigh. As sad as it was for the family to lose her, they also had a visible reminder there of her legacy. Life DOES go on. I know I will grieve when I lose my parents, but I also understand in a very tangible, real way that this is the cycle. People die. New people are born. My mother, who works as an LN at a nursing home, recently told me how much she enjoys working with residents who are close to death. She considers it a privilege to be with them in their last moments and help them transition to the other side. It occurred to me that this isn't so different from an OB-GYN or midwife loving to catch babies as they come into the world.
Jason called his dad on the way home. When his dad asked what he was up to, he didn't say: "I'm on my way home from Joel's dad's funeral. It made me think about you, and how much I will miss you when you are gone." That wouldn't be very Jason-like at all. Instead, he said: "Nothing much" and proceeded to engage in small talk for five minutes. Some day, I think Jason will regret that he didn't spend as much time as he could have with his father. . .