The phrase, "Only The Good Die Young", is bullshit.
The Good. The Young. Only the good...only the young...
DIE?
Really?
Who came up with that phrase, anyway?
It's weird, the things we come up with to say with the intent to comfort others in the midst of loss, grief, and unexpected tragedy.
Only the good die young...
That's right up there with 'at least-they're-in-heaven-now- type phrases that people use and say to those who cannot be comforted by mere words...
especially, words bound up in such ignorance and cliche-bullshit-isms.
Those who frequent this blog (because, I assume my writing attracts such imaginary crowds),
know that I lost my grandfather this year.
Lost him...
like he went off wandering in a department store or something- -
You get what "lost" means...
passed on...
departed...
fell asleep...
moved on...
went to heaven...
and...
The Good Die Young...
Why do we all try to put death so gently?
Why do we sugar-coat it?
Why do we downright LIE about it?
Is our effort to misname the darkness and injustice of death,
merely part of our blatant inacceptance of what really is?
I say, yes...
For, only the good die young....
is BULLSHIT.
The good die all the time and age is no factor for their parting from this world we must live in without them.
"remember the good times"
Yeah... I will... thanks a lot.
I can't get them out of my head and
you should shut up.
People try to comfort us.
We try to comfort them...
Why can't we all come to terms with the fact that there isn't any comfort for the grieving?
Because...
We must feel useful.
Our need to feel like we're helpers is selfish,
in times of loss and grief.
There isn't anything 'right' to say.
My husband tells me stories about his late-mother, who passed away before I ever had the pleasure of meeting her...
Sandy Hodge was a minister.
She wasn't a minister, like you think or associate with the title, I assure you...
I like her words of comfort best of all...
I am told she once said this to those who'd lost a loved and dear one:
"WELL, .... SHIT!"
What better way to convey love, sympathy, compassion, empathy, emotion, shared grief...
than that?
Don't tell me that the good die young.
Don't talk about God, because- to me, He took what I love...
Just feel my pain...
Share my sorrow...
Say...
Well, SHIT.
and share in laughter that follows....
That's how to properly cope with the BULLSHIT, my friends.
Stop the cliches.
Stop the comforting attempts.
Be the shoulder to cry on,
the anger to share,
the agony to cry about,
and the arm to pick me up again...
Then,
only then...
have you truly comforted me.
Pain is hard to share.
It's not fun.
It's not easy.
But...
it's what we all need.
The good don't die young.
Sometimes, they do.
Don't tell me they do.
I don't want your rehearsed cliches...
I want you to feel my loss...
with me...
Only then, can you help me through it.
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