In this week of cascading celebrity mortalities, and the resultant gnashing and wailing by media and fans, I was initially embarrassed that I live in a culture of such profound celebrity worship. But then empathy kicked in.
After all, the families and friends of the celebrities suffer no more or less than the countless other ordinary families who this week must face the loss of a loved one. Premature and unexpected, or the anticipated death of an elder – loss is loss.
Perhaps when we mourn deeply for a celebrity, someone we don’t really know, we’re facing down our terror – practicing for the inevitable death of someone truly close; or perhaps we’re further resolving a grief we already carry. Grief is a necessary and unavoidable part of the human experience, no less real whether we grieve for a close loved one, a beloved pet or a cherished celebrity. We should not judge the validity or import of another person’s grief, but rather remind ourselves of the common path we travel.
This beautiful poem was written by my cousin, Janelle Olney. Janelle was an oncology nurse for many years – not just serving cancer patients, but also counseling their families:
The Letting Go by Janelle Marie Olney
Here you wait, in this room of hissing machines, and whispering loved ones.
Touched by latex covered hands, you open your eyes long enough to say “I’m still here.”
I know you’ll be leaving soon.
On the street below people go about their day, unaware of this unfolding drama that dwarfs their mundane concerns.
Something this momentous should trigger lightning strikes, or cause the very stars to darken in the sky.
But it’s only death come calling. Stealing in on quiet feet and taking you away.
An empty chair at the table.
An empty pillow on the bed.
An awful empty hole in the hearts of your wife, your children, and those who will always remember you were here.
Death is so cruel in its ordinariness.
People die every day, and two are born to take their place.
But ordinary is not a word that will occur to those whose lives will soon be torn apart by the letting go of you.
Janelle’s loving son, sisters and parents were kind enough to share this poem with us at Janelle’s funeral, three years ago. Janelle’s death was accidental – she was 48 years old.
