I have a false memory. I wanted to say that when I was a little girl, I remember hearing the news that Gregory Peck died. I was sad and talked to my older sister about it. She chided me and asked why I cared since I didn't know him. Looking up when Gregory Peck actually died I saw that I was already in my 20s when that happened. It wasn't him, but it was a prominent actor that I knew of, but apparently because I wasn't in their sphere, I shouldn't mourn their death.
My mother always described me as a very sensitive child. Accurate and I call it anxiety now. Or detail oriented depending on how I use it.
The memory that is more vivid and more painful is when my best friend called me up in tears when Chris Farley died. Our friendship was forged in cartoons and comedy (specifically SNL). I don't remember crying, but her pain made me hurt and I wouldn't be surprised if I cried for her, him, or both.
Hearing the news of Chadwick Boseman's death came on the heels of the end of a live online comedy show. My husband stole my phone to make sure I didn't read the news and ruin my evening. It didn't stop others in the Zoom chat sending their quick RIP messages. I thought maybe it was a strange reference to Doug Loves Movies and how he jokingly would say that about a random celebrity. The joke being that how horrible would it be to be the one to find out about someone's death from a quip in a comedy show.
I was shocked. I hurt. I cried. I'm tearing up just remembering it. I also felt a sting of my sister's words decades ago. I didn't know him. Why was I crying?
I could analyze this. In fact I did in the moment. He was only 43 and died from the same cancer that took a family member of mine last year. He brought to life incredible characters and gave us portrayals of real life trail blazers.The videos of him with his fans were incredible and show what a beautiful human he was. How could he be gone when he had more stories to tell, more art to create, and more lives to touch?
At the same time, I had bawled my eyes out mere weeks ago watching Avengers Endgame. Of course that scene will hold even bigger weight as now the reemergence of heroes centers around the one who is now gone.
Friday night I was crying for him as my "sensitive child" wanted to talk about it. My younger self that taught me to walk it off wanted to shove my hurt down and not bother anyone. My husband held me as my conflicted self went through the very small list of those I can allow myself to be vulnerable with. He encouraged me to call a very special friend. Pretty much the only one I admitted to last month about my Avengers tears. Bless her and her reaction of "Makes sense. I did that." Have this kind of person in your life.
But what if she hadn't heard yet? I couldn't be the one to tell her. Yes, I fear being the bringer of pain, even though I did not cause it. I cried as I debated and drafted a text that wouldn't worry her. Can't be too light because that's not fair to spring my crying during what was supposed to be a quick call. I loathe showing weakness that I cannot control. I do not want to hurt my friends.
Escaping to social media was a mistake. While the videos of those reminiscing about Black Panther's release and fun experiences of Black Panther fans being surprised by him appearing from behind a curtain, my happy tears were still tears. The devastating ones came with reading those asking for help on how to tell their children what happened. And the one that recounted their child's reply if it was because of the cops or COVID. Or the photos of super hero toys mourning the loss of Black Panther.
Not to sound like the biggest asshole, but I thought about all the future Marvel projects. I am shamed that I cavalierly thought, they'll probably just have to focus on Shuri. And while I typed this, I was bummed that one of my favorite SNL skits Black Jeopardy featuring T'Challa will now be sour instead of brilliant and hilarious. There internet, please punish me for my lapse of selfishness.
If you hurt. You are not alone. I'll leave you with this beautiful image and text from Instagram account Melanin & Mental Health.
Why We Grieve People We Never Met
1. Their work helped us get through a difficult time in our lives.
2. Their work inspired our dreams & goals.
3. They modeled possibility.
4. Their death triggers our grief of previous loss.
5. Their passing activates our fears around death.
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| Source: Instagram @melaninandmentalhealth |
May you be well. I wish that this is what I was told all those years ago.
