the greatest loss of all

The greatest loss of all

Summer of 09 has been marked by loss. The death of Ted Kennedy, the last son of an iconic generation of Kennedys who were admired and loved all over the world was, for many, the passing of an age. The memorial service that was broadcast live on TV was impressive in its pomp, formality and congregation of VIPs. The wealthy and powerful had gathered to say farewell to one of its own, a favorite son. As I looked at the possessors of wealth and welders of power, I was struck again by the magnitude of President Obama’s achievement. He and Michelle were highly noticeable and the exceptions, the only African Americans in the huge cathedral of easily over a 1000 people. (except for one or two unrecognized government or public official) In the front right section of the church, the Kennedy clan occupied a block of what seemed like two hundred or so seats. As we move away from old prejudices, can I hope for some diversity or inter racial marriages in the Kennedy grandchildren?
Senator Kennedy’s memorial service was held on Michael Jackson’s birthday. The contrast between the highly formalized, archaic funeral ceremony and the Michael Jackson birthday dance party could not have been greater. The birthday party was outdoors in Prospect Park and it was attended by everyone – old, young, poor but mainly black. On a stage set in the middle of Prospect Park, DJ spinner did his thing. Michael’s voice carried over the park and within minutes there was a huge crowd of thousands. Spike Lee and Tracy Morgan encouraged the crowd to sing along and to dance. Cameras moved through the crowd and the audience unabashedly showed off their moves.
For many of us Michael Jackson was like family. We grew up with him and we danced to all his songs. Its interesting what enters into you r life and becomes part of your family. How did a young Black kid half way across the world come to mean as much to me as the people I spend time with everyday? We loved his music and there was no doubt that he was hugely talented and musical. But we also watched him grow up from a precocious and adorable 6 year old who burst onto the world stage to an adolescent that became more loved, famous and successful then his older siblings. He captured our hearts and even though we never met him physically, he was as familiar to us as our own family members are.
On the other hand we can be in the same room or space with someone on a daily basis and not feel the same sense of loss when they are gone. With office colleagues, you work side by side for several years and one day the cubicle is empty and you are told of an unexpected death. There is a sense of shock over the untimeliness. And it brings home your own mortality. But I do not experience grief or weep tears. How can that be when the colleague has been such a constant presence and there have been many interactions? Does this mean that loss is really loss of happiness? Not familiarity or how much time spent together but whether you associate the person with happiness and happy memories. But of course work places are often fraught with conflict and pettiness and you fairly or unfairly associate the person with the environment. Sometimes the thing that makes one happy is a concert or a song that you hear on the airwaves constantly and that you and your friends dance to at every party.
At other times it’s an adorable puppy that you’ve adopted and lavished time, attention and love on. I watched our little ten month old puppy grow from a shy, timid, easily scared pup to a confident sassy dog. I still can’t really write about how she ran out of our front yard Monday evening May 11th and we have not seen her since.
The first time we saw her, she was sitting in the middle of her cage shivering with fear. She is caramel colored with big eyes and droopy years, a pug beagle mix. The staff at the shelter told us that she had just arrived that very same day and decided to name her Sophia. We named her Sonnet. Her loss is traumatic. I never imagined that a pet could have such a hold over me, that I would grief for months; in fact still grief for her. But the pet has become a family member – you have cared, walked and fed it. You, your husband and his kids have laughed at her tricks and antics. It is a asimple relationship but one that has brought unexpected and tremendous joy. The greatest loss occurs where the most joy has been.