I've lost two I love in the last week and gotten crushing news on two more. I start with something uncharacteristically heavy because you should know my frame of mind is not what it normally is.
Someday I'll write a rant about the words normal and weird, but not today.
For someone who never expected to see 30 it's surreal to be within spitting distance of 50. I've learned a lot (little of which merits sharing/broadcasting), but one of the things that sticks is this: a huge chunk of what we call loss is a kind of selfishness.
That likely reads harsh. Good.
Humans are not my favorite creatures. We are capable of wonderful things. Immense kindness. Self-sacrifice. Giving selflessly and unexpectedly. Charity is, as far as I know, an uniquely human expression.
That written, there are reasons we write books and make movies about the people who exhibit these qualities and practice any of these things. For the most part humans suck. We cut each other off in traffic, talk shit behind one another's back, spread gossip, judge, prejudge and generally do little to endear ourselves to each other. We're killing our planet. For all our technology and advancements, this is in many ways a new Dark Age.
Most of what we do that isn't reprehensible is saved for our loved ones. It's possible to be good to one person or to a few. Some of us are good to our friends. Few of us have any kind of humanity to offer strangers. In fact I see more anonymous hostility and aggression than anything else. Not even the basic respect of common courtesy has survived this far into the 21st century any more than common sense has.
Yes, I'm old. No I don't think things were better when I was younger. But there were fewer days when I made it home livid after having to be in the world.
Granted, as I've stated before, my life is odd and I'm an odd dude. Maybe this is just a rant, but I think some of this can spill outward from me. This is not all neurosis.
I've lost two I love and fear two more are shuffling off this mortal coil soon. I am hurting. A lot of people are hurting. I remember a time when people reached out to one another when a friend or a family member died. I don't see much of that anymore. There is some, sure, but I see a lot more people waiting for others to tell them how sad it is that they've lost someone. What the fuck is that?
We live. We die. We're carbon based lifeforms. That's how it works. But it's what happens in between that makes a difference. That's what makes some of us noteworthy and some of us footnotes.
Do I think we can all be Mother Teresa? No. Not by any stretch. But it isn't hard to be giving. Not in the small human ways that make a difference. Why is it so many scowl when a smile is actually a more pleasant thing for the one who does it and the one who sees it? We're all of us alone in so many ways but we do almost NOTHING to make life better for each other. We're so busy scrambling around in hopes that someone will coddle us, tell us it's alright and acknowledge that we're special that we do NONE of these things for the people in our lives.
We certainly do none of this for the people we don't know.
Do you ever think about the person who sells you coffee or delivers your mail? Have you ever spoken to the homeless individual you see in town who occasionally makes eye contact with you?
I'm not saying (writing) I'm a good person, but I want to be a better one. I have been a better one. I can be a better one.
I look at the two who are gone. One was a good friend, a great mom and a hell of a wife. She made a point of maintaining connections BETWEEN OTHERS. Really. She regularly reached out to say hello and to ask if people knew how to get in touch with other people. We have scarcely seen one another in the last 30 years, but I heard from her a few times a year. Every year. Were we the same friends we'd been as kids? No. Our lives had taken us in very different directions and we'd become our own people. She, thankfully, didn't have to go through trauma and got to build a family. That's a family that's suffering powerfully now.
The other was a great friend and a talented craftsman whose creations have allowed dozens of individuals to make great music and tens of thousands to experience great music. He was absolutely uncompromising in who he was and what he did. He did not suffer fools gladly and he always had a good word for those in his life. He was as real a person as I've ever met. In the community of instrument builders he was semi-legendary.
And they're dead. Gone.
We aren't celebrating their lives we're feeling sorry for ourselves.
Part of that is normal. Of course. We don't get to have conversations or hear them laugh. They won't call or send funny emails. They won't be teaching others or setting an example. We're hurting.
But we're being selfish. What they gave us, THEY GAVE US. We still carry that. It has added color and depth to our lives. We're changed for having known them. They made life a little more real for us. And now they're gone. Does that mean we're less real? Did they take those colors when they left us? Are we back to the people we were before we knew them and were changed?
Fuck no!
This is not belittling anyone's grief or grieving. Loss is loss. But I'm so tired of people getting up and talking and hearing it be about them, not about the one who's died.
We're all alone in so many ways. We can do more for each other.
Take into account, too, that there's a certain level of hypocrisy in my stating that after having decided to leave society and put this in a blog. I know I'm not making new connections and I do little to let anyone close. But I try not to alienate those left in my life. I do what I can to be decent. I don't succeed often. But I try. My solitude is nothing exciting to read and I've already written too much about it. As subject matter I'm far less entertaining than my diatribes.
I dunno. I lost two I love and I'm about to lose two more. I'll quote a character in an anime film:
"Being forgotten is... a lonely thing."
Maybe what I'm trying to say is that we don't have to forget the living. We reminisce after someone's gone. We make occasion to share stories. We don't always appreciate them when we have them.
Or maybe I'm crazy and my perceptions are wrong. But I don't think so.
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