At my age death is a frequent occurrence and in the last few days I had to make two condolence phone calls. Both were calls to the South and to old friends one of who is also a distant relative by marriage.
The first one was to a friend who was also a colleague in my working life whose parents were known to me as well and in a way I was instrumental in his marriage. When through a group mail I came to know of the passing away of his mother, I rang him up to offer my condolences and he simply said that it would be a good idea to rejoice as she had lived a long and happy life and went without suffering and / or causing suffering to her family. In fact, the conversation turned out to be quite amusing leaving both of us laughing at the end of it and assuring each other of meeting soon.
The other one was this morning, but the person to die was the father of a friend. I had known the father too as I had been to their home a few times. The father was 91 and had been keeping indifferent health the last year or so with frequent hospitalisation for emphysema. The death must surely have been a great relief for the life long smoker of Indian cheroots.
While in the first instance my friend reacted quite practically and the exchange was a pleasant one, the second one this morning was a disaster at least as far as I was concerned. As soon as my friend came on the phone and realised that it was I, he started off wailing and crying aloud about what a great loss it was and how much he will miss his father etc. Not only did he give me the blues, he insisted on my talking to his wife who too took off into a litany of her grief like only Tamils can come up with. It was a very forgettable experience which left me numb for quite some time.
I suspect that there must have been people around my friend and his wife and the performance was for their benefit rather than for me. Whatever the case, the contrast coming so soon after the earlier condolence call was striking.
Unfortunate that we are expected to make condolence calls and visits and are exposed to such drama that pulls us down.
I was a great listener in the past so heard my share of dramatic stories. With practice one can be supported without getting dragged down. It sounds in your case with the second couple you felt used by them.
Cheerful Monk recently posted..Watching Things Grow
Yes, I think that your description is right. I was just uneasy without being able to put my finger on why I was so uneasy.
After reading the above I shall most certainly not ever bother you with any bereavement of mine. Unless, of course, it’s a laughing matter.
U
Ursula recently posted..In scant supply
Excellent idea Ursula. I really prefer people quietly fading away without a great deal of fuss and when my time comes, I have instructed Ranjan to carry out my wishes including an announcement that will say, “No condolences please.” like they say now a days at weddings “No gifts please.”. I shall now add a codicil saying “unless you want to laugh with us.”
Everyone handles these situations differently. At least you made an effort. Two “friends” – I thought close friends – never contacted me regarding Lynn’s passing.I was/am shocked as they seemed so supportive during the last year. I admit to being a bit disappointed by their lack of action. I find it puzzling as I notified both via email the day it happened.
Some people simply cannot convey condolences Chuck and I understand their inability.
You have good instincts, Rummy.
blessings ~ maxi
Maxi recently posted..Father’s Day and You
Thank you Maxi.
The second example (with due respect to the deceased) brought to recall a hindi soap opera, where the daughter in law goads her husband and children to cry more dramatically at the death of her FIL. She later explains to him in private that the estate of the deceased is apportioned on the basis of displayed grief. There were other competing siblings in the scenario.
The benefits of melodrama are at times directly proportional to the likely incremental share of the estate.
Jagdish you cynic! Did you see that old movie Rudali with the professional mourners coming to cry when the Thakur dies? That is what I was reminded of earlier today. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rudaali