Betsa-rella cut it up one time...
(Ooooss
Oks...)
Let's talk about death baby, let's talk about you and me.
Let's talk about all the beauty and the trauma.
That may be.
Let's talk about death.
Let's talk about death.
Where are my 90s kids? Salt-n-Pepa has honestly been my one true musical companion since I was old enough to play my own cassettes. I was driving down the road the other day and this song popped into my head. We don't talk about death as a culture. It is a part of the human condition, but we don't talk about. It is hard to be there for someone in their time of grief.
I recall as a kid a classmate lost his grandfather. I was at the store with my mother and I picked out a condolence card. How monotone the messages were. I'm sorry for your loss. May you find peace. May the memories comfort you. I picked one, and months later when I was picking up my room, I found it. I had second-guessed myself and my ability to be there for a friend. I know now, I didn't need to have the answers. Or the perfect thing to say.
Because when we are given the opportunity to honor the sadness, the horror, the guilt, the rage... we can find bliss again. We can feel love in a way we didn't before.
We will all grieve at one point. We can be there for our loved ones even if we don't know how. If you don't know what to say, don't say anything. Examples of what not to say: "so, are you going to be swiping right?" - (to the new widower). Or telling the daughter who just lost her mother; "my friend would be so good for your dad." Screw you. Seriously, a horrendously awkward moron uttered those words. At my mom's celebration of life. There is a reason I learned of this months after the fact. I'm at a different place in my journey and can imagine how I would have chosen to react hearing this.
The pain is no less whether a person suddenly dies, or you have months, or you have days. There is no quantifying amount of notice so when that person dies you think, well I feel so much better having those couple days of preparation! For me, it would have been awesome to have advance notice so my mom didn't have to have die in a hospital, but we were all with her when she transitioned. And I do believe she had power in her death being as it unfolded.
To my friends and family that have let me sit in my sorrow, thank you. Thank you for the books of poetry. For the pie. For the hugs. For not saying inappropriate AF crap. For just being there. For existing. For not knowing what to say.
Thank you.
(To see the original song, visit a local music store if possible. The album information can be found here: Let's Talk About Sex wiki page)
(Ooooss
Oks...)
Let's talk about death baby, let's talk about you and me.
Let's talk about all the beauty and the trauma.
That may be.
Let's talk about death.
Let's talk about death.
Where are my 90s kids? Salt-n-Pepa has honestly been my one true musical companion since I was old enough to play my own cassettes. I was driving down the road the other day and this song popped into my head. We don't talk about death as a culture. It is a part of the human condition, but we don't talk about. It is hard to be there for someone in their time of grief.
I recall as a kid a classmate lost his grandfather. I was at the store with my mother and I picked out a condolence card. How monotone the messages were. I'm sorry for your loss. May you find peace. May the memories comfort you. I picked one, and months later when I was picking up my room, I found it. I had second-guessed myself and my ability to be there for a friend. I know now, I didn't need to have the answers. Or the perfect thing to say.
To the people at home or in the crowd it keeps coming up anyhow. Don't be coy, avoid or make void the topic, 'cause that ain't goin' stop it. No.Grief is not contagious. It is not a race on who can resume normalcy first. There is nothing you can say or do to take the pain away. You can be there. Hold a space for the person to fall apart. To exist. To pick up the pieces of their everyday life that can be an impossible feat. You can remind them they don't have to be strong. Do not ever mutter the words Be Strong. That even if they appear to be strong the facade doesn't matter. To really heal, we have to feel it all. We can't ignore the trauma. The absence. The finality. The sadness. Even the beauty of death.
Because when we are given the opportunity to honor the sadness, the horror, the guilt, the rage... we can find bliss again. We can feel love in a way we didn't before.
We will all grieve at one point. We can be there for our loved ones even if we don't know how. If you don't know what to say, don't say anything. Examples of what not to say: "so, are you going to be swiping right?" - (to the new widower). Or telling the daughter who just lost her mother; "my friend would be so good for your dad." Screw you. Seriously, a horrendously awkward moron uttered those words. At my mom's celebration of life. There is a reason I learned of this months after the fact. I'm at a different place in my journey and can imagine how I would have chosen to react hearing this.
The pain is no less whether a person suddenly dies, or you have months, or you have days. There is no quantifying amount of notice so when that person dies you think, well I feel so much better having those couple days of preparation! For me, it would have been awesome to have advance notice so my mom didn't have to have die in a hospital, but we were all with her when she transitioned. And I do believe she had power in her death being as it unfolded.
To my friends and family that have let me sit in my sorrow, thank you. Thank you for the books of poetry. For the pie. For the hugs. For not saying inappropriate AF crap. For just being there. For existing. For not knowing what to say.
Thank you.
(To see the original song, visit a local music store if possible. The album information can be found here: Let's Talk About Sex wiki page)
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