wtf, death!?
did you know that sesame street debuted on my birthday, the year before i was born? that show was a big deal for my family. i have audio tapes of my dad coaching me to repeat things into the mic. he prompts:
“say ‘hi grandma.’ now say ‘i love you.’ don’t forget to say hi to grandpa. tell him to ‘send us cash.’ now what do you want to say to mr. hooper?”
my dad died two years ago today and i have to say, i don’t like it. i still feel like a part of my physical being has been severed and the empty space hurts really bad.
the worst part is the unsettling continuing shock. when it first happened, i was horrified of course, but there’s all of the in-the-moment stuff that you have to go through – travel, funeral, headstone… somehow, when all the tradition and ceremony ends, you know you’ve been through a hard time and there’s a finished feeling.
it was really then that the enormity of “forever” started to bitch slap me around, and it hasn’t stopped since. it’s funny to me that somewhere inside, i forgot that the funeral was only the end of the beginning of the loss of him. i still find myself thinking “wait… wait a second… you mean, NEVER?” and it aches deeper than anything i’ve ever felt.
mr. hooper died too, back in the day. here’s the clip of the cast explaining the permanence of death to big bird. it makes me sob, but it helps too. (btw, it starts with hilariously dated political chit chat between the adults.)
we both believed in “because” and finality, but he was a whimsical, imaginative guy. i used to archive some of the best emails i got from him. his death was a surprise, but coincidentally, this is the last email from him that i saved:
Considering where this nutty world is going, I have decided to come back in my next life as a Monarch butterfly, providing I can keep coming back each birth cycle. I will look beautiful. I will be able to travel. I love to fly and I will have many many good friends…we all will look the same so no one in our group will pick on us; what could be bad? Ok, I know I can get eaten by a big ass big bird etc or get caught by a stupid ass kid and put in a jar…
anyway, i miss him. thanks for listening.
Posted in pop culture, thoughts, video
August 19th, 2008 at 11:55 AM
Moxie, you write the headiest blog I ever read. But it uplifts me somehow as well. We are all angry, and we are all human. I love you.
August 19th, 2008 at 1:44 PM
I’m so sorry about missing your dad. I can’t even imagine. All the loss in my life was when I was young (when my grandparents passed away) and just recently when I lost my cat to Heart Disease very suddenly I kind of figured it out. That there are moments of ‘better’ and ‘calm’ but the forever part still is pretty sharp. And so many people say “ah, well, it was just a cat” but still it hurts like crazy. I have been trying to mind my gratitude and be thankful instead of bitter (I go bitter very quickly) and holy schniz that is HARD. It’s not at all the same loss, but I completely identify with your pain and your hurt and even the anger. We are all angry! xoxo
August 19th, 2008 at 3:47 PM
This post (and the Mr. Hooper video) had me crying, too. I’m sending you a big hug today, and lots of hearts.
August 20th, 2008 at 10:06 AM
thanks so much for the support, friends. it helps.
August 20th, 2008 at 3:29 PM
What a beautiful tribute to a beautiful butterfly of a man. I had the great honor of being in his company a bunch of times when his peachy daughter, my friend, was in school here in philly… I miss my dad too. He died in 1990. I don’t know that the pain ever leaves, honestly. You just learn to live with it. Blessings!
Vickie
August 20th, 2008 at 5:30 PM
Weird that I decided to check your blog only a day after this post…Yeah, yeah “I never call, I never write….”
Out of all my friends who have lost loved ones, your dad’s was the hardest funeral to attend. Only my dad’s passing had me more emotionally shaken.
Coming to your parents place is always fun, but will never *as fun* as it used to be without your pop.
BTW, I kept those leftover “legacy” cookies you gave me at his wake for 3 months. It was hard to toss them even when the preservatives gave way to the mold…I wish I had made lucite paper weights out of them.
August 24th, 2008 at 9:44 AM
I don’t remember much from my childhood but I distinctly remember Mr. Hooper’s death and how they dealt with it on Sesame St. It’s stayed with me ever since.
You father sounds like an incredibly special man and I know your healing will be a very long process.
Whenever I see a Monarch I will think of him. You’ve extended his memory to others now too, making his presence in this life even stronger. Your friends are here for you. Call me whenever!