My brother died a couple years ago, and I have one of the cards from his funeral taped next to a photo of his final resting place on my flipper cabinet at work. It's not obvious (aside from its proximity to the funeral card) that the second photo is related in any way to my brother, and I've had a couple coworkers now ask what it is. I explain, and almost immediately see a flash of discomfort in their eyes. I'm not totally sure who the asshole is there, but I suspect that by many measures it is I.
At least one coworker immediately felt "bad" for "bringing it up" and I didn't know how to explain to him that the *whole blessed idea* of the photos is to "bring it up." Maybe not "it" (whatever "it" is) but certainly "him." I don't want sympathy or pity but I *do* want to be able to say that I miss my brother. I do want to be able to talk about him. I do want to be able to have him present in my life the way that everyone else keeps their living family present with photos, stories, mementos, etc. One thing that has brought me comfort in my grief is the absolute knowing, enjoying, and even celebrating of where he (literally) is. I don't think that has to be shameful, although it certainly has been awkward at times.
Am I the asshole for reminding people that death is, in fact, a thing? That it happens, often unexpectedly, that we can't control it or bargain with it or do anything other than let it wash over us and try to accept it (or not?) That once it happens, its tendrils reach out to various and unexpected corners of our life? That sometimes death stares back at us from places we least expect? Are they the assholes for not wanting to confront whatever discomfort or aversion they feel that prevents them from carrying on any length of conversation with me about my dead sibling?
I think the reality of the situation is that nobody is the asshole. I want to remember Robert and to feel close to him and where he is now. Death is uncomfortable. It's okay for both things to be true, and valid, at the same time. Neither has to "win." Life is defined by the tension that arises between conflicting values and I think one component of living a genuine life is being able to honor multiple truths and acknowledge the multitude of values that may be at play in a given situation. At any rate, doing that is easier than the exhausting (and also blinding) mental gymnastics otherwise required to live unambiguously.
At least one coworker immediately felt "bad" for "bringing it up" and I didn't know how to explain to him that the *whole blessed idea* of the photos is to "bring it up." Maybe not "it" (whatever "it" is) but certainly "him." I don't want sympathy or pity but I *do* want to be able to say that I miss my brother. I do want to be able to talk about him. I do want to be able to have him present in my life the way that everyone else keeps their living family present with photos, stories, mementos, etc. One thing that has brought me comfort in my grief is the absolute knowing, enjoying, and even celebrating of where he (literally) is. I don't think that has to be shameful, although it certainly has been awkward at times.
Am I the asshole for reminding people that death is, in fact, a thing? That it happens, often unexpectedly, that we can't control it or bargain with it or do anything other than let it wash over us and try to accept it (or not?) That once it happens, its tendrils reach out to various and unexpected corners of our life? That sometimes death stares back at us from places we least expect? Are they the assholes for not wanting to confront whatever discomfort or aversion they feel that prevents them from carrying on any length of conversation with me about my dead sibling?
I think the reality of the situation is that nobody is the asshole. I want to remember Robert and to feel close to him and where he is now. Death is uncomfortable. It's okay for both things to be true, and valid, at the same time. Neither has to "win." Life is defined by the tension that arises between conflicting values and I think one component of living a genuine life is being able to honor multiple truths and acknowledge the multitude of values that may be at play in a given situation. At any rate, doing that is easier than the exhausting (and also blinding) mental gymnastics otherwise required to live unambiguously.
