Conversations and death
A recent podcast find is making me think about how I've handled grief
There’s no easy way to say it. Losing my mother has affected me in a multitude of ways, in both the obvious sorry-for-your-loss kind of way and the deeper, sneakier visit-you-only-in-your-dreams way.
Even a recent trip to get my car (no, my mother’s car) inspected turned into a moment when another customer in the waiting area sat down next to me and proceeded to have a full-blown conversation way too loudly with another customer across the room.
Sitting next to the person you’re speaking to is so much more practical and considerate
Don’t talk so loudly in public about very strong opinions when you don’t know everybody’s situation
I sat patiently waiting for my name to be called, gladly keeping my nose of these peoples’ business, even after two other customers joined in. All I can remember is the older white guy had a large plastic tumbler in his hand, and the woman he was talking to needed someone to clean a house she was putting up for sale. The man talked about he owned so many houses and regularly had to clean pools, the woman assumed he would be open to cleaning her house. He wasn’t.
The man then turned to everyone else in the room to get in their business. “What’d they tell you about your car?” “They want to charge how much?!” And so on and so on.
When the mechanic came back to ask me how my car has so few miles since it was last inspected, the man’s attention came back around to me (yes, still sitting right next to him) I wasn’t in the mood.
I just wanted to get my inspection done and be on my way. He wouldn’t have it.
I didn’t look at him, but I could feel him turn to me and rattle off questions about how a car could have so little miles over the course of a year.
Ugh.
For the previous thirty minutes, I sat there hoping this man would shut up or just go away. I even thought about getting up and walking out into the blazing heat. He couldn’t know the reason I was there was because it had been a full year since I took ownership of my mom’s last car, but courtesy doesn’t require knowledge only sensitivity. So I laid it on him.
“That’s my mother’s car. She passed away a year ago and I inherited it, so now it mostly sits in my driveway. That’s why the low miles.”
His face turned. He softened his tone, said some things to back out of the Pandora’s Box he just opened, and then he extended his hand.
I shook it, not to condone his unnecessariness but to acknowledge that I said something he wasn’t ready for and he might want to think twice next time.
I felt kinda bad afterwards, but I also felt soooo good.
All this to say, I don’t always know how to talk about what I’m feeling when it comes to grief, especially with strangers. I think I’ve found an acceptable degree of sharing with family and friends, depending on their own experience and how much they are open to the discussion. I haven’t really gone far with others like co-workers or acquaintances because it never seems like the right time or place to drop the heavy business on ‘em.
But randos? It hasn’t really happened much so far. Usually it’s because I don’t feel like it’s appropriate, or because they might not even care, or because everybody’s got their own thing to deal with anyway.
Then today I found the DEAD Talks podcast, which is nothing but host David Ferrugio talking to guests about their experience with loss and grief. While the Bryan Callen episode is fun, it’s the episode just before it that hits home.
Hearing the amount of clarity, insight and wisdom on display from all walks of life, I’m seeing another way to approach how to manage my own thoughts and feelings about my experience and have these kinds of conversations.
At the same time, I’m looking at my first session with a therapist to really expand this circle in a productive way. If dealing with grief is a sport, I really need someone who is familiar with the game being played more than someone who has only watched from the stands. I’m starting to see the value in knowing that someone else is capable of relating to a circumstance that you might find impossible to understand yourself—even if they were completely annoying just minutes before.
If you’re struggling with grief, I’ve learned the most helpful thing you can do is talk about it. Don’t hog the ball. Pass it around. Get your mind working in a productive way. Help is only a word away.