Wait, I thought he was my best friend!
That must have been the general reaction to the speakers who memorialized our recently departed 96 year old friend this past Monday.
Each of them spoke warmly about all he had done for them, how he had been there whenever they needed him – even when they didn’t – and had been a force in their lives. Their best friend.
There is a lot to process about losing a friend or loved one. There’s actually a lot to process about the arrival of a new friend or loved one, but that’s a subject for another time.
My initial reaction was that the speakers were proof of a life well lived – so many people who loved you and knew they could count on you as a friend – wow!
But it also made me think of those who wouldn’t (or couldn’t) be described in the same way.
And my next reaction was about our tendency to not always tell the truth – or the full truth, at least.
And that really applies to babies and the dead.
When I see a newborn, whether I’m related or not, I see an amorphous blob.
I am terrible at the “Who do you think he/she looks like” thing. Answering “Eleanor Roosevelt” might anger the parents (and not the young Eleanor, the late in life black and white version). So my answer is generally, “Not sure, but aren’t they beautiful?” If I’m not that fond of the couple, I might answer: “Whoever you slept with to produce this thing”, but oddly that comes across as hurtful.
And when others say they think the baby looks like me, I wonder if that angers the baby.
We handle the dead in much the same way.
It begins with the open casket. “He looks so natural…. waxy is his color!”
And moves to the speeches and praise – which are often sincere, as in the case of our friend – but there are occasions when we are hard pressed to be positive.
“They were of medium height, they still subscribed to the daily paper, they would never force themselves on a blind person” – you’ve heard the vibe. As a historical footnote, apparently the parade of speakers at Stalin’s funeral praised his mustache, relentlessly. And I read that our President will wear a fake mustache at the upcoming Russian summit, as a sign of respect.
Interesting, isn’t it?
Interesting is an interesting word.
A relative once described a newborn as “interesting looking”.
When I was working, a meeting described as “interesting” was likely a waste of time. A colleague would usually ask: “What was f*ed up about it?
How often have you described a movie or a painting as ‘interesting’ when at a loss for anything else?
In interesting fashion, it avoids hurting someone’s feelings, avoids sharing what we really think…
The other bit of processing I’m now doing is around what really matters.
There are so many parts of our lives that seem to matter in the moment: Balancing your checkbook, which binge program to choose, subscribing to the daily paper… I do notice that as you age you appear to be less politically inclined, which might be a lesson for us all.
But then you’re dead, and it turns out none of that really mattered.
So, you can either process that as Camus did, and behave as if nothing matters: Quit showering, forget concern over how you dress, and never leave the house. Which pretty much describes the last year, and I don’t think anyone wants to go there again.
Or you can behave with your memorial speakers in mind: Become the best you (or a better one), and a true friend.
But all this leaves me continuing to process, and in need of feedback.
I recently asked a friend: “How did you like this week’s post?”
The reply: “Interesting”.
TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:
Nowhere Fast The Smiths
“And when I’m lying in bed, I think about life and I think about death,
And neither one particularly appeals to me”
Common Knowledge Conor Oberst
“He’s my friend, but he’s no friend to me”
These Days Jackson Browne
“Do not confront me with my failures, I had not forgotten them”
Suit of Lights Elvis Costello
“They pulled him out of the cold, cold ground, And they put him in a suit of lights”
Keep Me in your Heart Warren Zevon
“Shadows are falling, and I’m running out of breath,
If I leave you it doesn’t mean I love you any less,
Keep me in your heart for a while,
When you get up in the morning, and you see that crazy sun,
There’s a train leaving nightly, called ‘When all is said and done’,
Keep me in your heart for a while,
Sometimes when you’re doing simple things around the house,
Maybe you’ll think of me and smile,
Hold me in your thoughts, Take me to your dreams,
Keep the fires lit, and I will be next to you.
Keep me in your heart for a while”
(Released 3 weeks before his death).
I quote Zevon often – a new favorite:
“If you’re lucky, people will like one thing you do early, and one thing before you drop dead”