It’s something I try to keep, for my own mental health. There are very few parts of my past I cling to (The Cottage was one), and I do what I can to keep my ghosts at bay. So many ghosts.
Two years ago, around this time, I went into Montreal to attend the funeral of a longtime family friend. While there I could barely breathe. My appearance was brief – in on the train, attend the funeral, out on the next train. The thousands of memories – a childhood buried in assorted graves, the broken hearts, the faces of the people who witnessed my youth – Montreal for me is bloodier than a battlefield, and more haunted.
Not so long ago I wrote of the discomfort I felt at reconnecting to my long lost cousins. Although I’m a little more open to such things now than I used to be, it still discombobulates me. Arm’s length or further is where family belongs.
But what do you do when someone is sick? How do you turn your back or shrug your shoulders when someone might be dying? I will admit that there are some of them I wouldn’t flutter an eyelash for at their demise. This is not one of them.
Close? No, we were never close. I was only ever close to one cousin out of hundreds (that’s who I spoke to tonight), but we were friendly. We were at exactly the right distance to not cause the fear, discomfort and loathing that comes so easily to me where family is concerned.
Do I have a role in this act that is playing out 300 miles away from my Toronto dungeon? Is there a way I can help, and if so, do I really want to?
Want to? No, of course not. I’ve done the nursing and palliative care and cleaning shitty beds and bloody phlegm enough to last a lifetime, and I did it as a child. I’ve earned my respite. So “want” is a very inappropriate word to use in this case. Who the fuck wants to go through that?
However I feel compelled, for reasons beyond my understanding. Is this what they mean by family ties? The very concept gives me chills. I am not fighting the intrusion of family into my life – I am fighting my own willingness to allow that to happen. The protective me wants to carry on without knowing or caring. But some little (oft ignored) inner me would prefer to throw open the doors to these specters of the past.
“However I feel compelled, for reasons beyond my understanding…”
Oh…..I don’t know RG. Could it be a “RightGirl’ conscience urging you to do the ‘right’ thing, to do unto others.
Just telling a dieing person how much their life meant to yours, and to be sure they do not die alone, is a noble gift if it is deserved. And it gives the dieing comfort knowing they live on in others their life affected.
If your friend is religious, then they already have comfort from their faith, but still deserve respect from those they earned it from, before a funeral.
My opinion RG.
Rg;
Jim R has said a lot of wisdom. I might add it helps to talk to God about it as well. If you believe that is. What people as individuals can’t do He can. In my life I found the pain lessons in praying for even the worst of them, or my past.
JMO