Sunday, March 08, 2015

Death, Take a Vacation

The best man from my wedding died suddenly a little over a week ago.  As soon as my husband's phone rang I knew he had passed.  If it was intuition or my ability to go straight to worst case scenario, I guess I'll never know.

Even though my dad and both my grandmothers had passed, this one was different.  All of those didn't come with the horrific element of surprise.  I also didn't have to deal with a terribly co-dependent friend this time around like I did with my dad.

This time around I didn't really feel like I had the right to be upset.  It was Hubby's friend, not really mine.  We spent some "couple" time together for sure, but he wasn't really my friend.  In fact, I had the distinct impression that he was amused by me, but had no interest in getting to know me personally.

He was a very passionate guy. He would get obsessed with something and it would be 300% about that topic until he was over it.  It could come off as extremely selfish, and a lot of the time it was.  It was.  I'm still angry with him.  I'm angry that his perfect family, his perfect life in his mansion, wasn't enough to seek the help he needed.  He's a selfish asshole.  He was a selfish asshole.  Even if his death turns out to be an accident, I'm still mad at him for not getting his shit together.

But I'm not allowed to have those feelings.  He's not a friend, I'm not supposed to have opinions about this.  I'm supposed to just be there for Hubby.  I'm trying my best to be there for him.  But my own feelings keep getting in the way. 

I'm so inappropriate when it comes to death.  All I could think about during the open casket was what a long day his corpse had, with a viewing from 4pm-8pm and then off for cremation in time for his funeral at 11AM the next morning.  It looked like him, but it also looked like someone from Madam Tussaud's had an intern do him.  If he was getting cremated later, was he in a longer casket?  When my sister was giving me a hard time about what I was wearing to my Grandmother's funeral, I told her that she humped the couches so much as a toddler that my mom took her to a doctor to see if she was okay.  Yeah, I put the fun in funeral.

I've cried almost ever other day since it happened.  Today I was super fatigued and slept through most of the day.  I hope this is the beginning of the acceptance phase, because I'm over this anger phase.

2 comments:

GS said...

Are you insinuating it was suicide?

As someone who struggled with depression for too long, and attempted suicide, anyone looking in can say it is a selfish act. Unless you have been in that moment, it's hard to judge. I had someone tell me how selfish it was in group therapy. But in that moment, with 100s of pills in hand, I felt a burden to my family. I'm on the other side now, thankfully.

But if it is suicide you are referring to, don't be angry for him. Feel sorry he couldn't get help.

2 Drink Girl said...

I'm not insinuating anything. I don't if it was a suicide, but while he was alive he was a selfish person. We all are at some point. I have struggled with depression and suicide myself, so I know how it works from both sides.