Accidental Triggers of Grief

Yesterday, when I read the news that singer and activist Harry Belafonte had died, I cried. I mean full-on, weeping. I never met him. So why was I crying? 

Every time I hear of the passing of a singer or actor artist or novelist that my dad and I shared an interest in, I want to call him. I always called him or stopped in to talk about such things. My dad taught me just about everything I know about folk music, about musicians, and, in a lot of ways, social activism. It'll be one year since Dad died next week, and I find myself blindsided by accidental triggers often. 

You know those ads for senior living communities? Or the ones that push visiting nursing care? The myriad media blitzes about taking care of one's elders? Yes, those. All of them have, to me, a hint that we can all do a whole lot better for our aging parents, even if we've done all we possibly can, especially if the resources they tout are not available for all of us. I know, because I tried. 

Lawyers' ads, senior advocacy ads, medication ads-- they all add up to We Suck at Taking Care of Those Who Dedicated Their Lives to Our Care. The incipient guilt lingers long after the loved one passes away. Note: Wills don't matter much at all if one's loved one needs to go into care and needs Medicare-- you have to exhaust all assets. In short, sell their home and other moveable assets (o gee, you can keep the furniture as long as it doesn't have material value). When an ad comes on that pushes the line "don't sell their home-- it's what they worked their whole life for!" it just triggers more guilt.

And then there's the incidental triggers, like seeing an older man shuffle-walking out of a store. The determined, slowly diminishing dignity, the type of clothes, the cane... I wish I could have done more. There really was not anything more to do, but I feel that way sometimes. To compound things, there are the official-looking scam mailers in the post. "Regarding the Estate of..." -- and you open it, hands trembling, and it's a scam, offering you money if you are "tired of waiting for Probate!"-- that ship sailed, friend. He didn't have anything left, really.

I suspect that, given time, the triggers won't hurt so much. Certain songs, a type of food, the holidays, my birthday-- yeah, those will still be around. I can handle it, most of the time. But then, some singer or actor, novelist or person we knew in common is in the news, and I have no one to tell.

It makes me sad. My dad sang "Scarlet Ribbons" to me often when I was little-- here's Belafonte singing it. I think I'll miss them both for a long time.

Hug your loved ones,

C