Before the internet, way long time ago, when someone famous
or celebrated died, you read about it in the paper, sometimes it was on the
evening news, or perhaps as a breaking news segment on the radio. You were
maybe by yourself, or perhaps sitting with a member or two of your family. Maybe – as when Elvis died – you might be,
like I was then, driving in your car, with the car radio on. You were all by yourself. You did not have a phone to use to call
somebody.
I remember when John Lennon was killed. I have absolutely no memory of talking to
anybody other than the man I was living with at the time, and he was younger,
and not as affected of course as I was.
Quite some time later, a friend of mine who lived in New York City, told
me he was so surprised I didn’t call him when John died. But I just don’t recall that I even felt I
needed to do that.
I do remember that it was kind of the beginning of MTV and
CNN, the very beginning of “24 hour news.”
So I think there was a little more constant input, but nothing like
these days.
There was never any crawl or three or four stories going on
at the same time, not until much later, maybe even after 9/11. The constant reminder that something big is
happening – that I think started during the Iran hostage crisis, when we had to
hear the latest every single night the entire 444 days of it. Even for Vietnam, it was the half hour of
nightly news…..and then it was the newspaper, or, more socially: a teach-in or a rally.
My dad remembered after FDR’s death, when the train brought
his body back from Georgia, and everyone lined the railroad tracks (I think
this happened with Bobby Kennedy too).
So there was a social aspect of course to the grief, but it seems like
it was connected to an activity, to a viewing, to a respectful witnessing.
Everybody remembers where they were when they heard JFK was
killed, and I absolutely remember where I was when I heard Martin Luther King
Jr was killed – because I was driving in Washington DC, going to pick my dad up
from work at the Peace Corps building near the White House. It felt like a social, a shared,
experience. However – it was not forced
on us from outside – it was our shared experience. We shared it.
With each other.
The instantaneous volcanic eruption of feelings and
feedback, when I think about it, is really very obscene. It’s overwhelming, ongoing, an onslaught, a
violent social event, a terrible sharing – unasked for, unrequested, unwanted
even – it’s awful.
First you hear the news.
Oh how awful, how could this happen, I’m so shocked. Then, bit by bit, the narrative changes. Critical comments about the deceased,
critical comments about the grief and the mourners. False news about how it happened, why it
happened, could it happen to you???
And if, like myself, you haven’t exactly been obsessing
about the recently-deceased person while they were still alive – for example,
if the last time you thought about George Michael was when you accidentally
listened to his version of Last Christmas instead of the one you usually listen
to on Pandora…or the last time you thought about Carrie Fisher was probably
when a passing movie review mentioned Princess Leia, or I (again, inadvertently)
caught a part of an interview she did about that movie…yes, I remember – she
had her dog with her. Whew. Glad I can say I had her on my mind at least
once in the last year…..
And the analysis, the continual analyzing of the event. Why did it happen the way it did? What can we
learn about our own possible demise? How can we avoid dying the same way? Who can be blamed? The doctor? The spouse?
The celebrity? The paparazzi? You kind
of can’t even just die anymore, it has to be a big choreographed event.
And the comments following the postings. The permission to be obnoxious and
divisive. The absolute expectation that
a smart remark must be followed by yet more smart remarks, culminating in a
nasty summary remark, again followed by the posting of the latest meme with yet
more snark. Somehow the general
nastiness of civil discourse these days is just so much more degrading to all
of us when it is in response to loss.
I can’t say I’ve not participated in any of the above.
But: Silence. That’s
what I yearn for when I’m grieving.
Remembering. Looking through pictures. A little bit of (possibly classy, possibly
silly) humor. Actually feeling emotion. Touching base with one or two friends, and
sharing our thoughts. Sending a card or
a donation in memory of the person. In a
year, acknowledging anniversary feelings.
Just a thought.
