Great Gifts

Ok. Upon reading my blog so far, it really focuses on all the pain and strife I've experienced in the past year or so. And that's kind of the purpose of this site. To work through these things on the bumpy ol' road to healing (or better health, or whatever it is down the road).

But I dont think I'd be able to deal with all of this stuff without humour. Sometimes at the blackest times and on the blackest subjects I've had the most bizarre and funny thoughts. Most times I dont say what's on my mind, but with the right company, I feel free to say it. The weird, black humour is a trait I've inherited from both my parents I think. They both have/had the ability to be a bit weird and creative in their view of the world. They did make a great team in that regard. Its horrendously sad to see that team broken up by death. These same types of thoughts seem to come from nowhere inside of me and come spilling forth. One example last Thursday:

I was at my mom's house and I saw a letter addressed to my deceased father (it sounds weird to call that house my mom's house when it used to be "my parents' house" and before that "home"). It was a letter stating that he was being called for jury duty. I looked at the letter and said to my mom "don't you think they need to get their records updated? It *is* the provincial government that issues birth and death notices, right?".

We weren't sure, so we proceeded to look through the letter, and noted there were several scenarios that could get one out of jury duty. One of them was having a "medical condition". Another one was a "severe disability". My mom and I got this dumb smirk on our faces and said "oh, Dad would LOOOOOVE this one.. we should TOTALLY toy with this...". I then went on to say "in his memory, I DARE you to call them and say:

"Bah.. Mr. Story is just not going to come. You don't really want him to attend".

.....Wait for a bureaucratic reaction......

Typical reaction expected (snotty tone bureaucrat): "Um.... Um... I"m sorry, this is a mandatory request and he must be there. There are serious penalties for not adhering to this request."

Our response back: "Oh, I dont think they'd be that serious".

Expected reaction: "Yes they are very serious. Mr. Story could be charged with an offence".

Our response: "ok then, there really is a very serious reason that he can't be there".

Expected bureaucratic response: "The situations in which someone is exempt from jury duty are duly outlined in the letter that is attached to to the summons. Please have Mr. Story read this and be aware of these situations".

Our response: "Well we noted that two of these situations include a serious medical condition, or a serious disability, right?"

Expected bureaucratic response (typically getting more angry and condescending as the conversation progresses) "yes, do either one of these situations apply to Mr. Story???"

Our response: "um, Yes. He's got a very bad disability/medical condition. He's been dead since November 2005".

Bureaucratic response: "umm...."


We HOWLED with laughter over that scenario. If you'd known my dad when he was alive, you'd know why that's funny. He loved toying with "rules and protocol" - always trying to look at things outside the box, pulling apart and analyzing incoherent and illogical rigid arguments. I loved that part of him, and its something that I've inherited as well. When posed with something that really doesn't make sense, instead of grumbling or feeling trapped or oppressed, Our minds would spin.... WHY do we have to do this? Can this be changed? Why are we adhering to this rule when its really stupid? Who made this up? What's the history, the context, the rationale? Can't we do something about it? Can't we make this world a better place?

Another thing thats funny about that scenario - those of us who are grieving see weird sides of people and society when it comes to death. Especially the major discomfort that people have when discussing it. People are quick to give you a hug or a word of support in the early days, when someone has just died, but over the long term, they just seem to stop talking about the death, and move on. And they are LOATHE to actually use the term "dead". Its almost shocking to say it out loud, but those of us who are grieving have been encouraged to use it, rather than some of the fluffier euphemisms such as "passed away" or "passed on". We're told that using the real word, DEAD, helps us accept the reality and not pave over the hard cold reality that someone's gone forever. So my mom, brother and I make a point of actually using the real word, no matter the discomfort of others.

We are the ones who have to accept his death the most. We bear the daily pain of missing him, of seeing his empty chair at the table, of seeing his shoes in the closet, of wondering what to do with his books and papers, of putting to rest his lifetime of hopes, dreams, love, pain, failures and successes, and integrating it into our lives so we can move forward without him.

On that note, Dad, thanks for your gifts of humour and idealism. They serve me well every single day. I love you, and I miss you like crazy.