Talking about death
Over beer and coffee and on cellphones, some of the old friends of Steve's have been talking about him, his life, death, choices and what's-it-all-about. I appreciated these conversations a lot. They are meaningful and grounding and touching.
I love the funny stories. Hearing those makes me feel so bright.
I was curious to learn how anti-religious some of my friends are; or rather, I was suprised by the extent of their expressed animus to religion due to philosophical assumptions or bad experiences. Well, fair enough. I used to fear and hate church, and I still have some anxiety, fear and resentment about the category of 'church' and 'minister' and 'hell' and the rest. But to not attend a funeral because of a metaphysical beef? or because 'Christianity is of its essence reactionary'? Who cares? I would go back to my own place of childhood suffering if I thought it would honor a friend or help surviving loved ones out in some way. I might go drunk or stoned or on valium, but I sure as hell would go. But, mind you, I don't really know why the people who aren't going aren't going. I have only their stated reasons. Maybe they were abused by a priest, or have agoraphobia, or are still scarred by the worst, most depressing and life-crushing fire-and-brimstone Baptist funeral ever.
I try not to be judgmental of people's reactions. We all bring such different experiences and worldviews and assumptions.
Sill, a few comments bugged me. A few people have said things that indicated a great deal of distance from their former friend's suicide, as if it hadn't been a few years since they had seen Steve but rather decades, and as if they had expected the death because wasn't he a bit of a fuckup? Well, yes he was in the last years, he made ruinous life decisions and he became self-obsessed, but most everyone I talked with knew him, hung out with, bonded with him in some way, were his friend. We are in our early to mid 30s thinking about a friend from a few eyars ago, not old men recalling with effort some lost soul from college.
This emotional distancing is very odd; understandable perhaps, but odd, and false somehow. I mean, are people so detached or disinterested or busy that they choose a posture of distance and irony over grief? One does not have to think things out or feel things deeply, but I don't think you can have intimacy or joy or real happiness either.
Another comment that bugged me was just silly: J. apparently is going to give a eulogy in which he is going to say that Steve killed himself "because he had no one to love". Which is just utter shite.
This makes Steve appear as a giant font of love who, unable to connect, languishes and perishes; as if he were misunderstood somehow and environmentally oppressed, as if he only lacked a venue or a portal; a passionate man lost on an island and driven mad. Which is complete crap.
Steve was wholly self obsessed in his last few years of life, from what I know. He was in to crystal meth and scamming and partying; he wasn't malevolent or whatever in this stage, but was hardly a loving or 'loveable' person. He certainly was not trying to love his mother when he made consistently lousey ethical choices and caused the DEA to question her at her work and to search her home. And I don't think it's anything to do with love to hang yourself in the lovely garden of your friends, thereby forever staining their garden and home. Neither is the pettier laundry list of selfish absurdities that could be tallied.
I hope J. says other things in his eulogy, and I am sure he will as R. or someone will talk to him . If he doesn't, he will just horribly embarass himself and look like an ass for decades.
People will see Steve ambivalently--he ensured that by his later choices and his last choice--but no one that I know of will be ungenerous or neglectful of the positive truths: that he could be extraordinarily sweet, loving and generous; that he could engender such great hilarity and fun; that he had a strong life force, a constitution like a horse, a lust for life. And more.
I love the funny stories. Hearing those makes me feel so bright.
I was curious to learn how anti-religious some of my friends are; or rather, I was suprised by the extent of their expressed animus to religion due to philosophical assumptions or bad experiences. Well, fair enough. I used to fear and hate church, and I still have some anxiety, fear and resentment about the category of 'church' and 'minister' and 'hell' and the rest. But to not attend a funeral because of a metaphysical beef? or because 'Christianity is of its essence reactionary'? Who cares? I would go back to my own place of childhood suffering if I thought it would honor a friend or help surviving loved ones out in some way. I might go drunk or stoned or on valium, but I sure as hell would go. But, mind you, I don't really know why the people who aren't going aren't going. I have only their stated reasons. Maybe they were abused by a priest, or have agoraphobia, or are still scarred by the worst, most depressing and life-crushing fire-and-brimstone Baptist funeral ever.
I try not to be judgmental of people's reactions. We all bring such different experiences and worldviews and assumptions.
Sill, a few comments bugged me. A few people have said things that indicated a great deal of distance from their former friend's suicide, as if it hadn't been a few years since they had seen Steve but rather decades, and as if they had expected the death because wasn't he a bit of a fuckup? Well, yes he was in the last years, he made ruinous life decisions and he became self-obsessed, but most everyone I talked with knew him, hung out with, bonded with him in some way, were his friend. We are in our early to mid 30s thinking about a friend from a few eyars ago, not old men recalling with effort some lost soul from college.
This emotional distancing is very odd; understandable perhaps, but odd, and false somehow. I mean, are people so detached or disinterested or busy that they choose a posture of distance and irony over grief? One does not have to think things out or feel things deeply, but I don't think you can have intimacy or joy or real happiness either.
Another comment that bugged me was just silly: J. apparently is going to give a eulogy in which he is going to say that Steve killed himself "because he had no one to love". Which is just utter shite.
This makes Steve appear as a giant font of love who, unable to connect, languishes and perishes; as if he were misunderstood somehow and environmentally oppressed, as if he only lacked a venue or a portal; a passionate man lost on an island and driven mad. Which is complete crap.
Steve was wholly self obsessed in his last few years of life, from what I know. He was in to crystal meth and scamming and partying; he wasn't malevolent or whatever in this stage, but was hardly a loving or 'loveable' person. He certainly was not trying to love his mother when he made consistently lousey ethical choices and caused the DEA to question her at her work and to search her home. And I don't think it's anything to do with love to hang yourself in the lovely garden of your friends, thereby forever staining their garden and home. Neither is the pettier laundry list of selfish absurdities that could be tallied.
I hope J. says other things in his eulogy, and I am sure he will as R. or someone will talk to him . If he doesn't, he will just horribly embarass himself and look like an ass for decades.
People will see Steve ambivalently--he ensured that by his later choices and his last choice--but no one that I know of will be ungenerous or neglectful of the positive truths: that he could be extraordinarily sweet, loving and generous; that he could engender such great hilarity and fun; that he had a strong life force, a constitution like a horse, a lust for life. And more.
posted by Chicken Pax at 5/13/2005
2 Comments:
I offer hugs and support and friendship. I am sure that Steve's death brings things bubbling to the surface. No matter what, it is sad and painful.
I understand that you try not to judge others' reactions, which is testament to your own grace. I also know how bewildering it can be to observe how other people deal. I can think of no other time when I've seen human behavior to be more baffling than during a time of grief.
Take gentle care of you.
I think you're right on track and not many people are willing to admit that they share your views. daniel dae kim lost is an AWESOME place to discuss LOST.
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