We’re so uncomfortable in our society, with grief and mourning.
I’ve always had a fascination with those pictures that float around on the Net, taken in the very early 1900′s. Portraits of people, taken after death. Memento mori.
That idea, today, would creep the hell out of people. But it was logical, then- photos were so expensive. If you didn’t have any, what memories could you hold with you, once that person has gone?
(Photos, I don’t have enough, never enough.. I always wanted to, had a feeling I should, get more photos taken of the four of us together… I didn’t, and I wish I had. if this is on your “To Do” list- take more photos of your loved ones- please do it. Today.)
I’ve always been uncomfortable with death, with people grieving. I think it’s a common thing. While some cultures treat grief as a right, our’s seems to treat is an inconvenience.
And a negative. Mourning is not always negative. Mourning can be, at times, a joyful process.
People avoided me, avoided calling me, avoided talking to me. I get it, I understand. Grief is difficult, and I would have been the same. We seem to put a time limit on grieving, and we get impatient when people don’t pull up their grotty socks and get on with it.
I’ve seen footage of women in other cultures, weeping and beating at the grave of their dead husband, or father, or brother. It’s expected and respected, a painful, vocal outpouring of sorrow.
Had I tried that at Tony’s funeral, I would have been carted off to the local pysch ward.
What a strange fucking world.