I'm finding it hard to focus today. Not only do I have to write out an article for the Star, Houghton's student newspaper, I also have to write a relatively long and boring paper for experimental methods. Both of these are due tomorrow and I'm just not in the mood for writing either of them. I'm nervous and distracted.
My grandmother was hospitalized the other day with some unexplained internal bleeding. It goes without saying that this isn't exactly an ideal situation. My grandmother is quite old, in her 80s, and my grandfather died about two years ago. Basically, it's just not something I want to go through again right now.
Here's the biggest problem. I'm pretty sure this is the kind of thing that pisses people off and alienates family but I'm just going to say it. I am extremely callous about death. I take a very Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five , approach to death. So it goes. Death happens. Get over it. From a fairly young age most people realize they are mortal and, to me, I don't understand how death doesn't become an acceptable part of life at that point. I haven't had an unusually large amount of death in my life, yet I've always been very accepting of it. It's not even a faith thing with me. I don't accept death because it's "going to be with God" or being "promoted to glory." I'm okay with death because this is what happens. This is what has happened for all time and this is what will happen to myself and every single person I ever meet, know, or love. I don't fear or mourn death because it can't be avoided. Death is an intrinsically natural part of life.
"So," you might say, "why is this a bad thing? This gives you an advantage when a family member dies. Death holds no sting for you, you lucky punk." That is true to an extent. I like the fact that I'm okay with death. I like the fact that I can accept something that is so natural, yet so devastating to most people. But it is a problem when everybody around me is different. Nobody else is callous about death, and I can't understand why. It's just outside the realm of my experience.
When my grandfather died I didn't want to go to the funeral. It was inconvenient. The funeral was taking place during finals week in the spring of my sophomore year. Also, I personally felt no need to mourn, or "say goodbye," or anything like that. But my dad wanted me to be there and, though death doesn't make sense to me, I love my Dad and if my presence could help him it was worth the sacrifice (Though it was a sacrifice. I ended up with a 2.0 that semester because I nearly failed all my finals). Jenny, my fiance, came with me. That helped. I needed her to be there to remind me to act sad and be caring and attempt to be sympathetic. Also, I kept falling asleep during the funeral and Jenny dutifully woke me up every time so that my cousins, several of whom were crying, would not notice.
So, I guess that's why I'm nervous and having trouble focusing. It's hard to focus on academia knowing that tomorrow I might receive a phone call saying that my grandmother is dead and I am expected, needed, to drop everything and do some sort of duty. Especially after the academic debacle that was the result of the last grandparent death I'm really not looking forward to dealing with this again. Terrible, callous, inhuman jerk that I am I would just like the dying to be put off until it can be made convenient for me. Not now. Not during my final semester as I am finishing up two majors. I do not have the time. I do not have the energy. I do not have the skill or the knowledge to deal with a family coming to terms with loss, especially when I came to terms with the loss years before it happened.
That's my predicament. I will now spend the rest of the night, possibly pulling an all-nighter (though I would rather not. My right eyebrow is twitching as I write this. That's not healthy), writing and being miserable and nervous about what the future holds. Awesome.
Well, there you go. Whining ago. I should change the name of my blog to "The Whinings of Chris" to more accurately reflect the content. Despite the fact that I may be offending people, particularly my family (I'm going for the family black sheep/outcast position. Can you tell?), by admitting that I fell asleep during my grandfather's funeral and that I don't personally care or feel disturbed about the possible upcoming death of my grandmother it feels good to get it out there. I don't understand why death upsets people, but I do understand how my not caring about something they do care about could upset them. So, I guess I apologize if I hurt or offended anyone.
Anyway, I should probably stop rambling now. I have nothing more to say. Ramble, ramble, ramble...done.
1 comment:
I suppose it was the way we were raised, having this callous.
In youth group a few days ago, they were asking if anyone had any prayer requests, and I said I'd like them to pray for Grandma. The person who was going to pray asked, "So what was wrong with your Grandma again?" It didn't seem the slightest bit rude to me, but the other people there seemed very offended by it and said jokingly that next week we should have a lesson in being more considerate about others feelings, and about being more, I don't remember the exact word, subtle? I thought it rather strange, since he meant no harm and did no harm, and he was asking an honest and simple question.
Well, anyway, I guess that was just a long way of saying I get what you're saying. People seem afraid to talk about death, they are uncomfortable with the subject of death, and they seem much more sensitive to it then we are. They don't even like the word "dead", when it comes right down to it...
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