Tuesday, November 4, 2008


The title pretty much says it all for me today. I'm blah. Not really motivated. Not really anything. Just blah.

My uncle died yesterday in a motorcycle accident. This is terrible on several accounts, but from my perspective, although I didn't know him well, I liked this guy. Which sounds kinda trite, but of my extended family, uncle j. was really pretty cool. In a very unusual offbeat sorta way. Also, the way he died was pretty terrible. Motorcycle accident. I love me some motorcycle. And I know he did to. So to die from doing what you love to do is intrinsically terrible. And at the same time gratifying to know he at least died doing something he loved. Anyway the whole thing sucks, my mom is really tore up about it and my aunt is falling apart. I'm just kinda blah.

I don't particularly care for funerals, nor do I care for the customs surrounding death. Why should I feel compelled to go "say goodbye" to a loved one by staring at a dead body and saying my farewells. I know that sounds cold, but think about it for a moment: the stuff that animated that body, the person who resided within it, is gone. What's left is just, well, dead flesh. Frankly, dead creeps me out a bit. I'd rather take a walk through the woods and and settle my thoughts, formulate my goodbyes and grieve in my own way. Although I know that there is a time for finding solace in others, I just don't find that solace in the stuffy, smelly (really, have you ever been in a funeral home that wasn't kinda stinky?) overly dark rooms of the local funeral homes. I'd much rather help myself to the offered courage and love of my family in a familiar and comforting setting.

And while we are on the topic of death, for the love of all that is holy, people should be allowed to grieve. And to talk about dead ones without the unwelcome uncomfortable sense that most get when this happens. You're going to cry when someone you love dies. You are going to grieve and want to wail and scream and rail against somebody for the terrible unfairness of it all. And you're still going to feel that way two weeks later when you have to go back to work and resume normal activities. And it's likely that you'll still feel that way a year later. Or three. It's normal, and people need to accept that, allow others to grieve and to cry and scream if they need to. Without feeling uncomfortable or embarrassed or silly. It's life. It is the way it is.

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