Laughter and Grief

 

The Troglodytes of Whimsy and Mercy

(This is from my essay that was published in Huffington Post a few years ago.)

For the most part, death isn’t funny.

 

“Grief” and “humor” aren’t often used in the same sentence. There are moments in the beginning of grief when we’re laughing hysterically, but generally that’s in the middle of the night and it’s not a happy sound. Or we’re laughing while standing by ourselves in the woods holding on to a tree to keep from falling down. Or we’re in the shower staring at the soap for five minutes. These moments are more about trying not to cry than anything funny.

 

Lost to Suicide

Laughter in the Darkness

Robin Williams died on August 11, 2014 from suicide. 

He was dealing with Lewy body dementia that progresses quickly and is marked by depression, anxiety, paranoia, and hallucinations. His death brought light to a difficult subject, and the discussions I heard afterward spoke of the mental illness aspect of suicide. They took the blame off those who kill themselves, and removed the guilt from family and friends who felt there was something more they could have done the night before that would have saved them.

Alphabet of Grief

We call death a lot of names when we're grieving. As we find others who are grieving and form bonds of support, we begin to identify ourselves as a group and find names to call ourselves. 

Some of the names are deadly serious, as you might imagine, because they rise out of anger and despair. Some come from our deep gratitude for those who held us as we ranted and sobbed. Others are humorous, of the dark variety, because if we can’t laugh at death, then death wins.

This is a beginning lexicon that I’ve gathered with a few friends.     

Aubade to the Afterlife 

Banshees of Bereavement                   

Café of Broken Hearts                    

Doulas of Death      

Laughter and Grief

For the most part, death isn’t funny.

“Grief” and “humor” aren’t often used in the same sentence. There are moments in the beginning of grief when we’re laughing hysterically, but generally that’s in the middle of the night and it’s not a happy sound. Or we’re laughing while standing by ourselves in the woods holding on to a tree to keep from falling. Or we’re in the shower staring at the soap for five minutes. These moments are more about trying not to cry than anything funny.

Clowns Are Bearers of Compassion

I like clowns. Some people don’t. Maybe they’re thinking of birthday clowns who entertain children and make squeaky balloon animals. Or the demented creeps who terrorize the woods. Or maybe the neo-fascist I-hate-people clowns. If this is the case with you, then think about fools instead. Fools like Buster Keaton, who, through his innocence and vulnerability, made us laugh and changed the world around him. Shakespeare had his rustic fools.

Café Adagio

Grief advice for a complacent millennial.

Sometimes you need attitude when talking to people about grief because so many are clueless, and polite words don’t penetrate their foot of insulation. Grief isn’t polite. It’s messy and filled with stampeding bison, but it also invites kindness, if we are paying attention. 

This is an imaginary conversation – what I wish I could have said.

Brian Doyle

Writer. Age 60. Dead of a brain tumor discovered six months earlier.

Stark details, and too familiar. They don’t say anything about who Brian was. How he wrote in a way that made grown men drool and old women swoon clutching their rosaries. How he touched the lives of thousands of people who knew him or read his words. He was reverent and irreverent, often in the same sentence. Insightful. Optimistic. Funny. Stuffed full of heart and faith. An artist with words that stunned with their lyrical beauty.

Hard Romance of Grief

I admit it’s unexpected, but I find Grief romantic. My new essay, published by the Rebelle Society.

You can read it at:

http://www.rebellesociety.com/2015/11/30/the-hard-romance-of-grief/