<$BlogRSDURL$>

Postcards of Grief

Mourning is a process.

Comments on breast cancer by proxy, written by a woman coping with the loss of her mother.

Thursday, December 18, 2003

Writ on water


The only show I follow with any regularity is Six Feet Under. The general premise is that the man who owns, runs and lives in this funeral home dies, and his two sons run the funeral home while their mother and sister continue to live there. The show is about them and their lives and the people who seek their services.

The dad keeps showing up, and they speak to him and he to them. He is distinctly different with each person, so much so that he doesn’t seem like the same character. When it comes down to it, he isn’t. He is defined in each scene by his relationship with the living character. The way one son sees him and interacts with him is not the same as the other son.

I hope to feel my mother’s presence and hear her insight and comfort when she’s gone. I want that, and I think she wants it too. I have a general idea how Mom’s presence would be felt by my father, but I can’t say that about Paul. His relationship with Mom doesn’t seem to have the kind of depth I would expect, and that didn’t occur to me until a few weeks ago. I bet it’s there. I hope it’s there. Maybe I’m just blind to it.

We are defined differently by different people. When we die, we’re not ourselves anymore, and our actions and words aren’t there to describe us to others. The same is true about gossip, I guess. When I tell Brooke about someone at work, her image of that person is composed of my words. The only difference is that my coworker could one day change that image. When we speak about the dead, the story is told.


0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home

.
This gif is freely copyable. Just right click, save
Powered by
RSSify at WCC

Powered by Blogger