Sass came home tonight with a letter for us that had been addressed via her school. I recognised the hand writing immediately. This person wrote to us when Jaz died and I was so angry at the time I threatened to write back. I'm a tad more mellow this time, but my annoyance is still piqued.
Why? Because not only did this person not know George and Jaz, they don't know us. He cheerfully admits he gleaned our details from the death notices in the newspaper. You may think I'm being harsh about a well meaning stranger, but I find it objectionable and completely self-serving that this man chooses to quote chunks of the bible at us and suppose that he has any understanding of what we're going through. The entire letter is dripping with his own purpose - not ours.
"What I am writing is rather than a few nice words [sic], is what I have found has helped me under similar circumstances when my parents dies." Not even close, buddy.
"Although thought by many to be obsolete in this day and age, The Bible has the answers as to where the dead are and what the future holds for them and us." How does 'fuck off' sound?
"Having told you of my care and concern, I will not write again [thank Christ!!!] however if you feel I can be of any help, please do not hesitate to let me know." All contacted details provided. I was thinking of contacting him and telling him what I think, but then I remembered I am trying to be more gracious.
And finally, the icing on this cake: "PS I must apologise for using the computer for this personal letter [soooo personal - it's the exact same letter he sent when Jazzy died] because my disability makes it painful to write for any length of time." Mate, I'll tell you about disability - and it's a hell of lot worse that a sore hand.
Now never mind that we're non-believers as I've blogged about before, but the whiff of self-serving superiority and righteousness is down-right nauseating. This letter is NOT about us. It's about 'Richard' making himself feel like a top bloke for being so caring and sharing. And that's what makes me so god-damned angry.
I was reminded of the time I foolish allowed some unknown nutter at Chadstone say a prayer for Jaz. He'd clearly singled her out because of her disability. That alone should have been cause enough for me to tell him to fuck off too. And had I know he was going to fall to his knees, gripping the wheel of her chair like it was his last salvation, as we stood in the queue for New Zealand Natural Ice-Cream and loudly start chanting - no, actually, ranting - I would never have agreed. I should have gather up my flock and wheeled off. But no, shocked, we endured minutes of this torture, this public demonstration of his 'goodness' and god-fearing, heart-felt sincerity as Jaz sat there, looking both bewildered and yes, sorry for him! Never the less,I should never have allowed her to be subjected to that.
Am I wrong??
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7 comments:
From B via email: I am gobsmacked and angry that someone should use Jazz and George’s deaths as a justification to preach. I, although I know I should try and be more gracious, don’t feel the need to be. He is not well meaning, he is a self-righteous (insert word)wit. B
...and totally appropriate. Being able to offer your condolences face to face is ideal. Doing it via text message or an email feels a little detached, while a phone call could feel way too intrusive.
Your'e right about death being the last taboo. And I have no doubt that people (like me) are worried about the reaction of the bereaved. You're highly unlikely to be able to make them feel better but you feel almost sure it's possible for you to make them feel worse.
My father died when I was 21. A friend of mine who was working where I worked express couriered me a chocolate chip buiscut in an envelope when she heard the news. It was exactly what I needed.
Funny, isn't it?
Yep. I have a girlfriend who dropped around a dozen bottles of champagne after both Jaz and George died. We toasted to how lucky we'd been to have them with everyone who came through the door.
You make some very good points CT - as usual! Yes, I have let go - in fact, writing the post itself was extremely therapeutic.
I have to qualify your point on the frequency of grief - as someone who's nigh on 50, I have many friends who by fact and their own admission have scarcely been touched. It's not an even distribution.
Other peoples' reactions are fascinating. I was discussing exactly that with another colleague of ours. Why are people hesitant to say anything? Are people innately fearful of their own mortality? Are they worried about my reaction? Or
their own? The Age on Saturday ran an article on this exact question (I can't find the link - sorry). In many ways, I think death is the last taboo of modern society.
I absolutely know what you mean by not knowing what I want - many have said the same. But as an example, M and I ran into another ex-Clemer yesterday. He and I had gotten on fine, but don't stay in touch as such. After a bit of small talk, he said 'MWW, I just wanted to let you know how sorry I was to hear about George.' Just a gentle acknowledgment delivered with utter sincerity. Perfect.
MWWx
WTF! Sadly the world is full of fruit loops like this. What an invasion of privacy. Seriously. No you are not wrong MWW.
I think there are a lot of factors at play here. Clearly, notwithstanding the disability, add in religion and a lack of boundary awareness and it's an interesting psychological recipe.
Grief is one of the hardest things to we have to deal with as humans. And despite the inevitability of having to deal with it at some stage of our lives and often, it's something we're not very good at. Possibly because it's not a skill you want to be well practiced in. Some people celebrate the life lived, others mourn the life lost. The writer or the letter(s) had no business in telling you how to grieve. And while I don't want to fall into the writer's trap and offer quotes of advice where it's not wanted, this is in relation to anger, not grief:
Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.
Getting angry is good, if not necessary. You have every right to be angry at them. Just experience it, acknowledge it and let it go. To do anything else is counter-productive. (much easier in theory than in practise)
But back on topic, having never met your children, I felt it would have been somewhat hollow of me to offer condolences in the immediate days/weeks following George's passing. It would be impossible for anyone not to feel sorry for you loss, so I formed the opinion that it would be better to leave you to grieve with your family and close friends, and hopefully you would know that anyone you'd ever met would be thinking of you at that time.
So while that this is very much a less-than-perfect medium to be expressing this for the first time, please know that you and your family were very much in my thoughts at the time and you have nothing but my deepest sympathy for your losses.
I guess my actions and those of the letter writer goes to show that, at times like these, some people think they know exactly what you want to hear and others have no idea where to start.
x
Gobsmacked!
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