Question for you…

Do you ever read obituaries?

It is not something I make a habit of doing. In fact, I do not recall reading either of my parents obituaries because, well, I knew them and knew when they “left”. I really only read them if someone says I need too.

Granted, I know people who read them frequently to see whom they knew who may have passed away. This, to me, is creepy as fuck! (Seriously?! But you keep doing you if it makes you happy.) It helps them to feel connected and allows them to grieve with the other people who knew that deceased person.

But I have read very few obituaries in my life simply because…I do not like death.

Nope!

Do not try and give me the “we all die” shtick. Do not care! Do not want to know! Let me live in my own little world where people simply go on “vacation”. It makes me happy to be delusional. Just ask the unicorn in my kitchen how delusionally happy I can be.

But this one I read. Several times over in fact. And I admit that each time I hoped for a different result. An ending different than the one I kept reading. A different life I had hoped this person had led.

His name was Paul and he was my first ever boyfriend from my senior year of high school.

He was sweet and quiet and we often agreed to disagree on the fact he was wrong thinking Star Wars was better than Star Trek! He lived for Star Wars and video games and computers. This was the era when things like computers were just starting to become a mainstay in people’s lives.

He and I were well matched because we both were nerds.

But despite there being gads of things we had in common and liked, there was no spark. Not for me and I really doubt for him. Because, while I liked Paul, sweet, homebody, Star Wars loving Paul, I sensed a deep well of sadness within him. He felt alone. I could sense this, but. That was something I could barely recognize and deal with in myself. I was not capable of helping him out of his own darkness.

I know people! I am being melodramatic!

But if you had read what I had read-you would have seen it as well.

It was a list of his parents having passed before him, that he graduated high school, got a degree from a community college, his church, his list of jobs, his love of Star Wars memorabilia, his being known as “Uncle Paul’s Taxi” service and then…

…then a list of random names of people.

It did not mention “loved ones left behind”. Just a list of names.

What the ever loving hell?

Nothing truly personal.

Did he travel to odd places like the Spam museum in Hawaii or maybe liked to ride trains? Anything more than what they gave him? Nope.

There was nothing about his dry sense of humor that I remember very well. He would just blandly say something to a person and I would have to cover my mouth to try not to burst out laughing.

I do not know…maybe he lost that fun quirk.

I honestly do not know what he was like these last few decades. I just remember the quiet, kind boy who gave me my first Valentine gift of a stuffed little bear called “Pooky” who was from the Garfield comics. I just remember his awkwardness in kissing me. The tender way he held my hand. The fact he could not dance but wanted to take me to prom regardless.

I do not know the man he became.

But I want to think he had more than a list of random people in his life. I want to think he had someone special. Someone that knew him, loved him.

But if there was this random person in my hopeful imagination…then please tell me why they were not mentioned. Please tell me that some HOW, some WAY that deep aloneness was touched and healed.

There had to be more to his life…

Because this makes me think about what will my own obituary be like?

Will they say I was the fun Aunt? The crazy friend? The interesting, deeply missed, and so very much loved person who loved unicorns and Leonard Nimoy and watching British murder mystries and Perry Mason reruns and used way to much glitter for a grown-ass adult? (I hope so, because to be honest, I am a fucking glittery delight!)

I would find it incredibly sad to think I had lived a life and all that had been left behind was a random list of nothing special.

He was special! He was sweet! He was Paul! He deserved a better send off than he received. And that makes me sad because if his send off was as bland and boring as I was told it was, my heart breaks for that young boy I once knew.  (Apparently no one gave a eulogy nor did they really share any memories about him at his memorial service. But I was told they did have pie so….yeah.)

Every person deserves to be celebrated! And not just when they go on vacation!

Every! Fucking! Day!

I celebrate each of you my darling friends! I celebrate each one of your unique and loving and caring and quirky souls! Please do not let those around you be forgotten or mitigated to an obscure role in life.

A small “aside” in life.

I am not saying you have to open your Facebook page and start randomly saying “I love you” to people. That could get freaking awkward freaking fast!

Just…

…remember that some of those people you know are alone. And find it hard to get out of their own heads. They may be sending happy thoughts and good vibes your way but they may not make a huge production of it. They may be saying thankful prayers for you being in their lives but they do not tell you this.

Please just tell those around you that you care. It does not need to be a huge production with balloons and pyrotechnics-though that would be pretty damn cool!-just tell them.

FUCK MY DARLINGS!

Tell them! Love them! Embrace them! Let them know they are wanted and cared about and that their sorrow, their aloneness, their weirdness, their unique tastes in music or movies or hair color, each of their strange and even boring quirks/talents/passions are loved! Because, those cluster of things, THOSE are what make them who they are. Not their jobs or degrees or lists of random names.

Please do not let them become someone with a random list of “nothing” to see them off. Because I never want to read another obituary that breaks my heart like this one just did. Actually…I never want to read another obituary at all.

You are all precious to me my lovelies!