I Realize Why, I Cannot Fly, Said The Bird With A Broken Wing. Though My Lift Is Gone, My Voice Is Strong, And I Can Still Sing

--"Clouds Parting (8:14 a.m.)", The Elected

Earlier this evening I had to to dispose of a dead bird from outside my balcony door. Apparently it had flown into the glass door sometime while I was at work. However, I didn't notice the body until I had retired to my bedroom. The whole process was very unpleasant for me. I was very tempted to leave the body outside till tomorrow when I was more in the mood to deal with the implications and expend the effort. In the end, I grabbed a plastic cup, scooped up the body, and threw it in the trash can near the elevator.

I just don't handle death well. I'm not exactly afraid of it, but I know myself to be someone who can't overly emote on the subject on a whim. For death to really affect me I have to know the person who died very well and, frankly, I have to like the person who died very well. For those two specific reasons there just hasn't been too many people whose passing has stirred in me the desire to ruminate on the subject for very long. In fact, there's only been Jennifer. For her I even went so far as to write a eulogy. But folks like my grandfathers, my grandmother, and my various aunts and uncles I neither knew them all that much and definitely didn't care about them all that much to want to be subjected to the sight of their fading away and their ultimate passing.

I'm just not the kind of person who needs to be present at scenes that are upsetting to me. I already have on my plate to be sad and mournful about; I never want to add death to that mix. I just can't ever get behind the idea of fixating on somebody's end for hours at a time, especially when it's somebody I really didn't spend hours at time with in the first place.

Maybe if it were parents, my brother, or my cousina I could see the point in spending an appropriate amount of time focusing on how much their loss would affect me.

Or if I lost another close friend like Toby.

Or, heaven forbid, Breanne.

Till then I don't need the annoyance of taking time out of my day to acknowledge the passage of a life. And I certainly don't need the hassle of having to do my part in laying to rest their corpses. A bird is bad enough, but I just don't get the point of attending funerals for everybody I may have met once in my life. From now on I'm not going to any funerals for anybody I don't already genuinely love.

That way if I do show up at someone's memorial you know it's because I had general affection for the person and not just out of a sense of obligation.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers