When you marry someone who has been married before and has children, there are a lot of things you have to take into consideration. One of these is the ex, especially if there are children involved, because the ex is always going to be a part of your life. So you think about dealing with the ex at the big events, graduations, weddings, showers, births, that sort of thing. One thing I never really considered however, is what happens when the ex dies.
Due to cancer, this happened in an untimely manner to my husband's ex earlier this week. Today was the memorial service. (Dang you Catholics get up and down a lot, not even talking about the kneeling thing. Give me a Presbyterian service and a nice long 20 minute period on my ass any day.) Out of support and respect for the step spawn, we went to the service.
It was the most surreal experience of my entire life.
Admittedly I have not heard many good stories about the ex from the husband, so my viewpoint may be a bit skewed. But even the step spawn hasn't spun the most favorable tales. So to sit in a place of worship and hear the ex extolled as a loving individual with a zest for life, a love of her family and the graciousness to accept a death sentence was an unusual experience to say the least. (At least it makes me confident that, indeed, no one speaks ill of the dead.)
My point? Well I guess it is just that in life (and politics) there are really two sides to a story and generally I would dare to presume that in both sides there is some truth.
And now my question. Can someone, under the circumstances of knowing your time on earth is truly limited—and not in the uncertain way that any of us could be looking at the grille of a semi at any moment—change? Can imminent death make you more kind, more caring, more forgiving, more patient? Or is that just a wager people place in the hopes that there is a hereafter?
Nothing wrong with hedging your bets, I suppose.
I promise to get back on track with all things political asap.
7 comments:
Can't help being reminded of the adoration that followed Jesse Helms' passing recently.
I'd rather folks be honest--not mean, but honest. I'm naive enought to think everyone has SOME good qualities, so focus on those but don't gloss over the rest.
So why this fear of speaking ill of the dead? Do they care? Are they going to haunt, hex or otherwise harrass us? Are we afraid God will be more upset if we talk about them when they're dead than when they were alive?
Silly really, when you break it down. And all those platitudes they use at funerals start to sound so cliche. I'd rather have something original. Hmmm, I'd better get to work!
well i know that i want the recessional to be an organ version of Billy Joel's Only the Good Die Young, ala the funeral scene in The Big Chill.
The rest I am still working on.
i have mine planned out too, i think i blogged about it a year or so ago. anyway--it does sound like a very surreal experience.
maybe part of the not speaking ill of the dead is so the rest of teh world doesn't know what a shit they were? like protecting the memory or something? hell, i don't know i haven't had a full cup of coffee yet.
My husband had to work very hard to keep from rolling his eyes through his dad's entire funeral - there was so much talk about how he "loved the Lord," and D knew that was utter nonsense. I think it has a lot to do with funerals being more for the living than for the dead ... we want to hear things that comfort us. Or maybe we think it's the last chance to make a case to God? ("He really was a good person, don't send him to the hot place!")
Catholic services = free calisthenics!
marian, i knew i should have come to you for the scoop on all things pope-a-licious. yep, mass equals no need for the gym.
but seriously, do they have to drink from the same freaking communion cup?? that is a bit too much "communion" for me, thanks.
Heh. But they wipe it off!
I dunno, I guess when you start from the belief that you're eating flesh and drinking blood (it just *looks* like bread and wine ...), it's not a big leap to believe you're not going to get sick from the person before you. Though in flu season they do ask you to "be sensitive to others' health needs."
The older I get, the more I realize just how kooky we Papists seem to the rest of y'all ... it almost makes me sympathize with the Mormons.
yeah, unless they are using a clorax wipe, i ain't buying it. i am happy to dip, but i ain't sippin'.
unless the pope makes you wear magic underwear, i think the mormons still have you beat.
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