Afterwards

Last week on Wednesday we attended a celebration of the life of Kate who'd died the previous week. Kate has had a positive influence on many so all of my immediate family me, my wife, our son and daughter had to be present in respect of and with love for Kate and Mark her husband.

As these things go it was a "nice" event with several very moving tributes from Mark and Kate's closest friends and family members. 

A pleasant and restrained short social gathering followed: drinks and finger foods unwinding the emotional knots that that had been building, at least for me from the moment I realised that the person I'd loved and respected had gone several days or even weeks earlier.

There's never an easy way to cope with death, particularly when it involves a person you know personally. Anonymous death, people you don't know, have never met, is far easier with which to cope. In fact that type of death becomes aural haze in the general ether. 

There are exceptions though: those you've never met in the flesh but you "know", sometimes well, over years, decades through constant exposure. These people, who come from (for me) areas such as radio/TV, actors, singers, performers, authors etc., have caused the lump in the throat and tears on many occasions. I'd almost grown up watching an English comedy double-act, (Eric) Morecambe and (Ernie) Wise on TV. For people like me, thousands in fact, had the same regard for these two blokes. They were familiar faces. So familiar in fact they became quasi-family for many. So when Eric died it was an emotional hit. Similarly for me former cricketer, cricket broadcaster and journo Peter Roebuck's sudden and tragic death in South Africawhile covering an Australian tour some years ago really hit me in the guts. I did burst into tears on hearing the news. Why? I can't explain. I'd liked him as a player and radio journalist but I'd never been closer than about 500Km of him.

It's odd how death affects you.

When Terry Pratchett died, even after the long, well publicised diagnosis of a form of cerebral degeneration, on hearing of his death I cried. While he'd been my favourite author for years, the closest I'd come to him was a dedication written by Terry in one of his books bought for me by a close friend Margarita. The fact that at the time Margarita gave me the book I was in a fragile state, recovering from major surgery may have made a closer tie to author (and gift giver). I don't really know but syspect that happens for everyone.

Release of emotions is a positive and essential reaction providing a relieving catharthis and these little emotional out-breaks assist in our recovery or at least help in coping with the death of the person to which you're attached.