silly subject line, i suppose. kind of a “no duh”.
i’m all for hope. really — i even want to write a book about it someday. i think it’s the single-most critical piece of a fulfilled human existance.
but friday was ann’s death.
sunday morning kyle died.
sunday was the yac-death anniversary.
yesterday, a good friend had some kind of a breakdown, coming off a season of stress, including the death of his father.
just now, one of my co-workers left the office to grab a flight to visit his mom who had emergency stints put in to free up some blocked arteries (not death, but in this week, it feels like the same sphere).
i believe all the “in a better place” crap. really, i do. it just torques me to no end when people offer that kind of ‘advice’ or ‘comfort’ in the face of immeasurable pain. it’s really guilting, not offering hope. it gives the receiver two horrible choices:
1. “i do not feel the hope you are suggesting; all i feel is pain, and maybe even anger. must be that i don’t have the attitude a christian should have.”
2. “i reject your attempt to comfort me, because it’s not helpful at this time.”
look — when one of my parents dies (which, i suppose, is inevitable), or my wife or one of my children, or even one of my close friends: please do not tell me i’ll see them in heaven. i know that. tell me you love me. tell me you’ll stand with me. or tell me nothing and just be with me. (doug pagitt, mark scandrette and thom olson were the most amazing example of this to me when yac died: they flew into town for the weekend of the memorial service, just to support me in any way they could — running errands, telling me jokes, pouring me another glass of wine.)
ok — all that got a bit off track. i didn’t mean this to be a rant about how not to comfort people in mourning.
i’m just really tired of death this morning. that was my point.