Everything dies, right? Intellectually, we know this. Every human, every pet, every tree, every flower, every laptop, every Harley...everything eventually dies. But as a culture, we don't seem to deal with death very well, especially when that death comes "unexpectedly."
And that's the trouble. We think we're allotted a certain minimum amount of time here on earth...what, 90 years or so? 100? And when someone dies prior to that age, it seems like a real tragedy. The more famous the person, the greater the tragedy. The sense of loss is tremendous, even if we didn't actually know him or her.
Of course, it's even worse when it's a close relative, like a mother or a father. Or a child. They're here...and suddenly they're gone, leaving a big empty hole in your world. How does one deal with that pain? Different people do it differently, of course. I have some friends who can tell you the exact day and date of their mother's passing, even though it happened decades ago.
By comparison, my own mom passed away in September of 2018. She was in her 90s; she had a rich, full life. I cannot tell you the exact date she died, nor will I mark the day and "celebrate" it in the future. I mean no disrespect. She was a wonderful woman for the time she had on this planet. I know I'll see her again. (She'll probably yell at me then -again! - for not going to college.)
Neil Peart, the drummer for the rock band Rush died recently. There was worldwide mourning. Peart was considered "one of the best" drummers, and the band's music touched many peoples' lives. More relevant to me, Terry Jones of Monty Python's Flying Circus died just last week too. As a teenager in the early 1970s, I loved the silly humor of "Python." The show had a huge influence on my life as an adult. It taught me to not take things so seriously.
I came to grips with death a long time ago. As a pilot, I've seen plenty of it. Aviation acquaintances and some close friends have perished in aircraft accidents. It sounds cold to say, but you get used to it. The dead person - pilot, musician, comedian, relative...or Harley...is in that "better place" we dream about. We stay here and to carry on without them. Or try to. It's not always easy.
Being inevitable...death, that is, we may read today about the passing of yet another famous person. The media likes to play these things up. But you can't let death "rock your world." You pay your respects and you move on. We have no other choice.
Who Am I?
- Bob Barbanes:
- A nobody; a nitwit; a pilot; a motorcyclist; a raconteur; a lover...of life - who loves to laugh, who tries to not take myself (or anything) too seriously...just a normal guy who knows his place in the universe by being in touch with my spiritual side. What more is there?
5 comments:
I learned to accept death at an early age since both my parents died when I was a child/teen. Even so, it's a very personal thing (grieving) and I don't think any two people do it the same way. In fact, each death I've faced (including beloved animals) has affected me differently. I think the death of my sister almost four years ago has been the hardest so far.
Clearly Rush's drummer was well-respected in his field (though I couldn't have told you his name). One of the satellite stations I enjoy has played nothing but Rush music since his death. Just thinking about it has Tom Sawyer playing in my mind.
Death usually gets me while watching one of those end of the year montage clips showing who famous died that year. It is easy to feel as if the toll is staggering until the following year when I feel exactly the same way again at the new crop of famous deaths.
Personally, it is the deaths of those around me who personally shaped me and whose deaths aren't even noticed in the next town over. I keep a book that I write about some of these people so perhaps someday someone might find it and hear their names again.
It is true that everyone handles death differently. But ultimately, we all must accept it as a reality and move on. Some people cannot seem to do that.
I didn't want to say this in the main body of my article, but I have a Facebook friend about my age whose mother passed away some time ago. And lately the majority of his posts have been about her in some way. To be frank, it's a little weird. It's almost like he's become obsessed with her. And he didn't used to be like that. Maybe he kept it hidden or suppressed? I don't know.
Now, maybe I didn't have the best relationship with my parents; I can admit that. And I get it, some people do have very close relationships with them (their own, not mine) - especially their mothers, and they feel her death very deeply and profoundly. But after ten years or more? Again, I can't tell anyone else how to grieve...I don't want to sound cold, but...really, there comes a time to move on. I don't want anyone mourning me for long after I'm gone (not that I'll have to worry about such things). It's like, "Thank you for making me who I am. Now rest in peace and let me live my life, okay?"
Having said all that, I still miss George Harrison. And he died nearly twenty years ago. Don't ask me why. So who am I to talk?
Yes death is the great equalizer. I agree with Kelly, that grief is personal and everyone handles it different. I still miss my parents, but I feel like they are with me. I can get choked up thinking about them, but I don’t think I’m still grieving. My brother’s death a couple of years ago caught me completely off guard and I think I’m still grieving his passing. Strange.
Bob, I completely understand. Death is often very hard to process. How can someone who was a vital, living, breathing, animated thing "just a minute ago" be so suddenly...gone? And WHY did they have to go?? Ah, questions without answers. And grief! Grief is a funny thing. Even when we think we have a handle on it...we don't, not really. Intellectually, I know that we all die. But there's a part of me that has trouble dealing with it.
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