Don't Bury Me; Keep Me Alive

Last week was a rather busy week for my family and I. Amidst packing, looking for new schools, etc., I was very apprehensive. It was the week of remembrance for two close friends. It was two years since one friend’s brother passed and five years since the other’s father passed. When I say apprehensive, I mean it. I’m one of those diarrhea of the mouth type of people, so in such instances, I either put my foot in my mouth or become a ghost.

I know I asked one of them how best to approach it the week before. Do I call? Is texting better? Should I just let the day come and go? I mean, I was a mess. I didn’t want my friends to think I didn’t care, but I also didn’t want to be “that” person who only brings up the family member once a year, as if it’s the least I can do. Personally, I would want to talk about the person all the time, to keep their memory alive, but because not everyone is me, I walk on egg shells and tend to make big messes. I want to get things right when it comes to such touchy subjects or situations, but most of the time, I just end up overthinking it then doing absolutely nothing, and hope my friend doesn’t notice.

So this week, I’ve been thinking a lot about how we often don’t get to say what people mean to us until they’re gone. Why do we wait until the person can no longer give us a hug or say, “Thank you; that meant a lot” to say how we really feel? Is it because we’re concerned that it’s never the right time (birthday/anniversary)? I don’t know. I think it sucks though.

I’ve met a lot of people in my lifetime and made a lot of good friends along the way. From time-to-time, I try to send cards expressing how I feel about the individual and how they’ve impacted my life. I don’t know about you, but realizing how much has been left unsaid after a person passes saddens me more than their actual passing. Weird? Maybe, but that’s just how I’m wired. I hate funerals for that very reason. As the person lays there, or in their absence, beautiful memories are brought to life. They are so vivid and often bring a smile across our faces before we return to bawling. I’m not quite sure why, but I absolutely dread those moments.

 I’m always mad at funerals, especially if I knew the person, or he/she meant something to me. I end up mentally kicking myself. For instance,  I would like to have told my uncle (maternal) that  he was my favorite and that I always looked forward to his smile. I would have liked to tell my cousin (maternal) that despite being so young, she was like my best friend, and her words always touched me deeply.

As much as I’m not into mush, I like to let people I care about know it. Whether it’s an occasional text here and there (since I’m not one for phone calls), or a random PM, e-mail, or card, I think it’s important. I don’t think anyone should go too long without knowing someone cares for or is at least thinking about them. I think everyone is entitled to a little YOUlogy. Let them know what you think of them, or their presence in your life. Talk them up a little; make them feel good about themselves. No flattery! Don’t blow breeze up their behinds or anything; be genuine. Share your favorite memory with them. Remind them of the first day you noticed them or how you met. Indulge the person with their favorite treat, to show them that you listen or pay attention.

I may have a strange way about me, but I have some pretty strong beliefs. While I’m alive, let me know how I’ve pissed you off, so we can talk it over and make up. While I’m alive, let’s grab some lunch or dinner and laugh at how lame we used to be and still are. While I’m alive, forget the movies, let’s talk. While I’m alive, take jabs at me, and I’ll take some at you. (I do that with those I love; that’s how they know I love them.) Then, if it’s God’s will and I go before you, at least I know where you and I stood: no words unspoken, no moments unlived. Talk about me…every day, if you can. Don’t bury me in the crevice of your memory; keep me alive.