One of my parents' really close friends passed away suddenly on Sunday night.
He was older (I think he was seventy), but he was one of those men who remain young through life. Everyone called him "Jimmy," and he laughed ALL the time. He was not sick, he had no serious medical conditions, and it is still really hard to believe he has died.
He went out to the garage to see if the snowblower needed tuning up for the winter, and when he didn't come back for a while his wife went to go check on him. He was sitting in a lawn chair in the garage, and he was gone. I heard he had a massive heart attack. His wife is obviously devastated.
I wasn't particularly close to him, but he was a very, very nice man who enjoyed life and I think that the reason his passing is bothering me quite a bit is twofold: #1, as Regan said, almost no one dies suddenly anymore. We cling to illness and linger in the hospital. We fade away gradually. #2, When I heard the news I immediately had that horrible "I want to throw up" feeling in my stomach. I also thought about a line from Slings and Arrows when Paul Gross' character states that he believes all grief is essentially selfish.
The myth is that it would be nice to "go quickly," or to "be at home in bed" when it happens, but do we really want that? Do we ever think about that? Would it be best if we disappeared in such an ordinary (if not boring) way? Does it really matter to anyone except those who are left behind? What were his thoughts? Did he know it was the end? These are the worst questions because they can never be answered. I think he were alive, and was able to comment on a story similar to his he'd probably say something like: "that poor bugger." Whatever the answer is, it doesn't change the fact that I will miss him and that no amount of watching Six Feet Under will prepare me for such things.
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3 comments:
All the people I knew who died, died suddenly. Either accidents or heart attacks and so on. I think it's more shocking, but at the same time, by not working up to it (months of illness and preparation) your final memories of them are (generally) happy and vital.
I'm sorry for your loss, Sherry.
for the love of god, Sherry, why are you watching six feet under to get you through a real-life death? keep the real world and tv world seperate, my dear, and hang out with your friends instead.
or ask regan to make you a blanket made of his chest hair.
The basket in the bathroom only has enough for a tea cozy.
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