Peaches

[cosmolinguist]

In some ways, it must be awful for a family to have to mourn the sudden loss of a young loved one in public. ("What is your reaction to the death of Peaches Geldof?," the BBC asks. Send us your comments." Ugh. That someone has to read all those comments is unimaginable horror to me.)

But in some other ways it might be a comfort, to know that so many feel some small echo of what you do. Otherwise, grief can be so lonely. If a not-famous person dies, the reaction seems unfairly small.

I remember when Chris died, I almost wanted everybody to hurt, because I didn't want it just to be us. I wanted strangers to cry, I wanted a psychic disturbance, I wanted everyone to acknowledge the loss as if they felt it as deeply as I did. My mom resented having to do such prosaic things as eat, as if even metabolism should have stopped bothering her for a respectful interval, and I hated seeing anyone do anything normal; put on hats, drive cars, listen to the radio. So having the internet full of what I was thinking about could have been comforting to me in some strange way, I think.

"So young," people say, and of course it is but also, we are lucky to think this is remarkable: these things happen every day. They happen to strangers, ordinary people, so we just don't know it. Anyway, we can't know. Our minds and hearts couldn't take it, because there are actually quite a lot of these ordinary people, and the effect of this happening to me just once was enough to knock my life off-kilter for years (and, in some ways, forever).

But still I can't help being aware that while it might not always be as commented-upon, it's always just as much a tragedy.

Comments

[nanila]

*nods* When I heard about Peaches, I thought of you and another LJ friend of mine who lost siblings in their early twenties. I'm very sorry that you have direct experience of such a terrible and sudden event.

[cosmolinguist]

Thank you for thinking of us. It really can be lonely. Another thing that really stuck with my was my mom saying that after the funeral everybody else went back to their lives, whereas we (my parents and I, I guess) couldn't. Of course that's the way it has to be and I really wouldn't want anything else -- it's because life is so delicious and compelling that we mourn the loved ones who can no longer share in it with us -- it did feel lonely. So it always makes me ridiculously happy when people tell me they think of me at that time of year, or when they hear of a similar story, or whatever. Losing my brother when we were both in our early 20s doesn't define me, but it has shaped my life in many ways and it's nice to have people spontaneously acknowledge that every once in a while.

[uglybuffy.livejournal.com]

*like*

[cosmolinguist]

Thanks :)

[mrs-leroy-brown.livejournal.com]

I was struck by that "What is YOUR reaction" etc too. I just feel like it's terribly intrusive and nowadays families pretty much have to immediately put out a press release which amounts to "please leave us alone to grieve" and it pisses me off that they have to do so instead of just being allowed to. IDK I think we all lose in horrible situations like this as you say - it happens every day and every day it's a heartbreak and everyday it's unfair.

[cosmolinguist]

Yeah. I just try to imagine how I would've felt if my parents had to do a "leave us alone" press release, and...no. Just, no. No one should have to do that.