Thursday, April 9, 2015
When my wife of almost 60 years passed away I did not feel a great need to talk about it. Not that I couldn't talk about it. I just didn't need to. I'm a card carrying, died-in-the-wool, classic textbook introvert.
We are a strange breed. We don't do well with small talk. We get charged up from inside rather than from groups and activity and talk. We say weird things like "My own thoughts are my best friends." When I read about a death where the deceased was surrounded by family and friends chattering and laughing to keep from crying, I think "that's nice. It's appropriate. It's probably what that loved one wanted. But not for me." I was alone with my wife when she passed away and that's how I wanted it. I say that with a bit of guilt because she probably would have wanted the people and talk. And there are family members who were deprived of the opportunity to be with her at that time. Some guilt is one of the feelings we feel when a loved one leaves us. But we are what we are. We all deal with death in our own way. Even if it's perceived as not quite "normal."
Those differences can split families and kill friendships. I have a feeling that there are loved ones in heaven looking down on their families squabbling over everything from who got what in the will to how the dearly departed's body was dealt with, buried or cremated. The departed is thinking "Would you please just shut up and let me rest in peace.!"
Posted by Clif Martin at 1:38 PM