Stupid People
07/06/10 07:23
Through the years, I’ve had various people compare my losing my son to them losing their dog. Amazing, isn’t it? Hey! My son didn’t get run over by a car. He died a long, slow death by suffocation. Dogs can’t imagine their future; dogs don’t have hope. My son had a life in front of him that died before his eyes.
And then there are the people who try to tell you that you “must let go.” Let go of what, exactly? The love? The memories? What the hell are they talking about? And you know something? If pain were the only thing that I had left, from my life with my son, I’ll take it. I’ll take the pain. I’m not letting go of a damn thing. I’ve “let go” of enough.
My ex-boyfriend, Bubba (yes, that’s really his name; he was a Texan), told me, three days after my son’s funeral, “Melanie, it’s been three days; you should be over this by now.” Needless to say, the relationship didn’t last long after that.
He wasn’t much different from the well-meaning idiots who ask you, “How long has it been now?” and then tell you that that’s long enough. Oh! Okay. Let me just turn this thing here to the “off” setting and we’re done. It’s like a pot of beans. When it’s done, it’s done. Cooked long enough. Time to “let go.”
These people have one thing in common, besides stupidity: cowardice. They can’t stand to see the pain so they try to discount it. “Oh, but they mean well,” my sister tells me. NO, they DON’T “mean well.” They are cowards. And thoughtless assholes. Your pain is something that they don’t want to come face to face with, because if they do, they might have to imagine that they’ll have to face it, too, one day. They might have to recognize that there are some things that can’t be fixed; that have no solution; that the only thing that they can do that will make any difference is to share your pain.
The shortest verse in the Bible is “Jesus wept.” [John 11:35] He was weeping with the people; sharing their pain. Cowards can’t do that; they won’t do it. And STUPID people show their cowardice by saying things like “Oh, he’s in a better place now.” Or, they tell you that it’s been long enough, and it’s time to “let go.”
No, it’s not time to “let go.” And it never will be. So, the next time you think about “comforting” someone who has lost a child, or another family member, and these words of “comfort” come to mind? Just shut the hell up, okay?
And then there are the people who try to tell you that you “must let go.” Let go of what, exactly? The love? The memories? What the hell are they talking about? And you know something? If pain were the only thing that I had left, from my life with my son, I’ll take it. I’ll take the pain. I’m not letting go of a damn thing. I’ve “let go” of enough.
My ex-boyfriend, Bubba (yes, that’s really his name; he was a Texan), told me, three days after my son’s funeral, “Melanie, it’s been three days; you should be over this by now.” Needless to say, the relationship didn’t last long after that.
He wasn’t much different from the well-meaning idiots who ask you, “How long has it been now?” and then tell you that that’s long enough. Oh! Okay. Let me just turn this thing here to the “off” setting and we’re done. It’s like a pot of beans. When it’s done, it’s done. Cooked long enough. Time to “let go.”
These people have one thing in common, besides stupidity: cowardice. They can’t stand to see the pain so they try to discount it. “Oh, but they mean well,” my sister tells me. NO, they DON’T “mean well.” They are cowards. And thoughtless assholes. Your pain is something that they don’t want to come face to face with, because if they do, they might have to imagine that they’ll have to face it, too, one day. They might have to recognize that there are some things that can’t be fixed; that have no solution; that the only thing that they can do that will make any difference is to share your pain.
The shortest verse in the Bible is “Jesus wept.” [John 11:35] He was weeping with the people; sharing their pain. Cowards can’t do that; they won’t do it. And STUPID people show their cowardice by saying things like “Oh, he’s in a better place now.” Or, they tell you that it’s been long enough, and it’s time to “let go.”
No, it’s not time to “let go.” And it never will be. So, the next time you think about “comforting” someone who has lost a child, or another family member, and these words of “comfort” come to mind? Just shut the hell up, okay?