It comes as no great surprise to me when the old woman’s death brings out the
worst in the family.
It takes less then a day and a half for them to be at each other's throats, bitterly quarreling about the wording of the death notice, the plans for the service, what to bury her in, even what flowers there should be at the church. Everyone has an opinion on what she would've wanted and she's quickly lost in the she loved me best shuffle.
Grief does strange things to people, my daddy used to say as he'd try and spread oil on the troubled waters of a family in crisis, death intervenes and in its immediate aftermath, we can lose sight of what's really important. Sometimes it's easier to argue over funeral details than face the reality of loss.
Or in the words of my grandmother, You got to be distractified to get through a dyin' and that's all there is to it. It don't pay to dwell.
There may be not only truth but wisdom in this, I think to myself, but I wonder that we can't do it quietly and kindly. This family feels a need to snipe and snarl at each other, as if it's a competition. Everyone wants the final say and is prepared to fight for it - loudly, sarcastically, arrogantly - one breaks down in tears, another cusses a blue streak and still another threatens to boycott the service entirely. In the end, despite their mutual vows to wash their hands of each other, I'm hoping they will regain their senses and gather together but I'm not counting on it. As soon as one quarrel is put to rest, another breaks out.
Death doesn't give a damn, of course, and it wouldn't surprise me if somewhere on the other side, the old woman wasn't laughing herself silly at all this nonsense and enjoying being the center of attention.
In the end, propriety will surely win because this is a family that cares deeply about appearances and social standing. No matter how intense their differences, they will not put them on public display. They will wear navy blue and be on time and afterward will open their home for a proper visitation evening. Everyone will put on their funeral manners and behave with dignity and grace and they will distractify themselves til the cows come home.
Grief does strange things to people, my daddy used to say as he'd try and spread oil on the troubled waters of a family in crisis, death intervenes and in its immediate aftermath, we can lose sight of what's really important. Sometimes it's easier to argue over funeral details than face the reality of loss.
Or in the words of my grandmother, You got to be distractified to get through a dyin' and that's all there is to it. It don't pay to dwell.
There may be not only truth but wisdom in this, I think to myself, but I wonder that we can't do it quietly and kindly. This family feels a need to snipe and snarl at each other, as if it's a competition. Everyone wants the final say and is prepared to fight for it - loudly, sarcastically, arrogantly - one breaks down in tears, another cusses a blue streak and still another threatens to boycott the service entirely. In the end, despite their mutual vows to wash their hands of each other, I'm hoping they will regain their senses and gather together but I'm not counting on it. As soon as one quarrel is put to rest, another breaks out.
Death doesn't give a damn, of course, and it wouldn't surprise me if somewhere on the other side, the old woman wasn't laughing herself silly at all this nonsense and enjoying being the center of attention.
In the end, propriety will surely win because this is a family that cares deeply about appearances and social standing. No matter how intense their differences, they will not put them on public display. They will wear navy blue and be on time and afterward will open their home for a proper visitation evening. Everyone will put on their funeral manners and behave with dignity and grace and they will distractify themselves til the cows come home.
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