on being human
Today, I am sharing the words of a friend of mine, Eileen Faxas.
OUR UNDERLYING CONDITION
We all have the same underlying health condition: being human
The problem isn’t the social distancing. That’s a solution that only 'feels' problematic. The insidious problem actually separating us now is Emotional Distancing. And no amount of Zooming or Skyping or Messenging is curing that.
As the bell tolls, the universally immediate questions we now ask about our fallen: How old were they? Were they sick? Followed by an: “Oh, they’d had...” [diabetes/cancer/lupus/old age/insert-anything-here]? “Oh well then...”, we intone sagely, lightly disguising our relief as wisdom, as if they had it coming. And because I don’t have [diabetes/cancer/lupus/that age/insert-anything-here] it likely can’t happen to me. And there it is. Emotional distancing.
As Coronavirus ravages the war heroes and the writers and the doctors and someone else’s parents -- as it eats up the survivors & fighters who once awed & inspired us before they fell under the “underlying health conditions” category and we scrambled away from that storyline to emotionally distance — the bell tolls for us.
We are burying decades of beauty and promise and accomplishment and memory. We are burying the hands that held, created, saved, lead, and once wiped tears from a heartbroken face. We are burying pieces of us.
I understand the impulse. To want...no, to NEED to emotionally distance. It’s the armor we wear. To believe this won’t happen to you or someone whose absence you would bitterly weep. From afar. Without being able to touch.
But it’s a peculiar form of cruelty, isn’t it? To dismiss the victims this way? After all, most of them now gone got it before we fully knew what was happening to us. Or got it following guidelines that proved to be illusions of safety. Got it from a warm handshake. Or the embrace of a loved one. They got it...from being human. Human versus the invisible enemy.
I find myself thinking of my father. And how I buried him 11 years ago... burying all that love & intelligence. Burying decades of knowledge, history, wisdom. Burying a brilliant engineer with the words of a poet and the ear of a musician. Burying a reflection of who I was, my very own road map. And all his underlying health conditions caused by a short bout with diabetes eroded his body as his sharp mind could only watch. He was 68 when he died. Alone.
I can’t emotionally distance because I have stood there. In that spot where you bury a treasure that was still gleaming bright.
I cannot pretend. And truthfully, no one can. It’s as much an illusion as the early guidelines that made us think we were in control with minimal life modifications.
So my friends, my family, my fellow man with this pesky underlying condition of being human... I, too, am currently eating too much & drinking too much & not sleeping enough & inhaling too much bleach & setting too many goals, none of which involve exercising, and I’m probably definitely thinking too much. And I can’t pretend. I will not emotionally distance. I’m choosing to feel it all.
And I’m so very sorry for our loss.
POSTED originally via Facebook March 30, 2020.
OUR UNDERLYING CONDITION
We all have the same underlying health condition: being human
The problem isn’t the social distancing. That’s a solution that only 'feels' problematic. The insidious problem actually separating us now is Emotional Distancing. And no amount of Zooming or Skyping or Messenging is curing that.
As the bell tolls, the universally immediate questions we now ask about our fallen: How old were they? Were they sick? Followed by an: “Oh, they’d had...” [diabetes/cancer/lupus/old age/insert-anything-here]? “Oh well then...”, we intone sagely, lightly disguising our relief as wisdom, as if they had it coming. And because I don’t have [diabetes/cancer/lupus/that age/insert-anything-here] it likely can’t happen to me. And there it is. Emotional distancing.
As Coronavirus ravages the war heroes and the writers and the doctors and someone else’s parents -- as it eats up the survivors & fighters who once awed & inspired us before they fell under the “underlying health conditions” category and we scrambled away from that storyline to emotionally distance — the bell tolls for us.
We are burying decades of beauty and promise and accomplishment and memory. We are burying the hands that held, created, saved, lead, and once wiped tears from a heartbroken face. We are burying pieces of us.
I understand the impulse. To want...no, to NEED to emotionally distance. It’s the armor we wear. To believe this won’t happen to you or someone whose absence you would bitterly weep. From afar. Without being able to touch.
But it’s a peculiar form of cruelty, isn’t it? To dismiss the victims this way? After all, most of them now gone got it before we fully knew what was happening to us. Or got it following guidelines that proved to be illusions of safety. Got it from a warm handshake. Or the embrace of a loved one. They got it...from being human. Human versus the invisible enemy.
I find myself thinking of my father. And how I buried him 11 years ago... burying all that love & intelligence. Burying decades of knowledge, history, wisdom. Burying a brilliant engineer with the words of a poet and the ear of a musician. Burying a reflection of who I was, my very own road map. And all his underlying health conditions caused by a short bout with diabetes eroded his body as his sharp mind could only watch. He was 68 when he died. Alone.
I can’t emotionally distance because I have stood there. In that spot where you bury a treasure that was still gleaming bright.
I cannot pretend. And truthfully, no one can. It’s as much an illusion as the early guidelines that made us think we were in control with minimal life modifications.
So my friends, my family, my fellow man with this pesky underlying condition of being human... I, too, am currently eating too much & drinking too much & not sleeping enough & inhaling too much bleach & setting too many goals, none of which involve exercising, and I’m probably definitely thinking too much. And I can’t pretend. I will not emotionally distance. I’m choosing to feel it all.
And I’m so very sorry for our loss.
POSTED originally via Facebook March 30, 2020.
Hi Teresa, that is so well said. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate the thought that we are burying 'all that love & intelligence.' I never thought of it that way. Terrific piece.
ReplyDelete