People are mourning the fragility of life. How easy it is for life to be gone. How triggering it is to watch death (and speculation of death) happen in real time on the time line. How strange grief feels in the body.
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How unexpected the waves of sadness roll through when you never met a person. How the death of a celebrity reminds you of the death of someone you knew personally.
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Perhaps all the memories you may have had with someone because this recently deceased person was a shared figure for you both. The “it’s not supposed to be this way” refrain when children pass. When families pass.
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When machines that are supposed to be in the sky come tumbling down. And when you yourself could have been in a thing in the sky that may have tumbled down. The evil of a social media landscape that tells the world before it tells the family. The pressure to say something first.
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The ugliness of what we actually are gesturing towards when we use the euphemism “complicated legacy.” The empathy of wondering how remaining family members will pick up the pieces, because you yourself, were in a family that had to pick up the pieces.
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And then there is the pain of not feeling like you can grieve properly because your Master, er, Boss, wants you to work. Something human in me is disturbed. Grief is not neat. And it defies sometimes all other sense. It’s all happening, all at once.
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All the feels, on ten, while the clock is paused and winding down and moving forward at the same time. And we have to all get up tomorrow and go about our day. Somehow. Holding all of that.
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I think people are reacting to the story and something bigger than the story. Death, anyones death, has a way of making us wonder what it means to live. What it means to be human.
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And everyone is wondering this very sacred thing together... online.... in real time.... in our own little corners and in our own little chairs.
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We were not made to live like *this.* No person ought die -like this-. And it’s hard to believe in goodness, or love, or joy, or God, when a death like this is ever possible.
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Sure, People die every day. Yes. That’s the point. People die... every day. We die. Every day. It’s overwhelming. It feels like punishment. And those of us who live have to deal with that. With all of what that means.
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https://www.fishsandwichheaven.com/reflections/tobelefthere … I’m muting this thread now because the notifications are hiding everything else for me, but here’s the thread in a blog. So you don’t have to unroll anything. I hate when people do that without asking by the way.
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