I'm in the club
Last year, I went to the AMC theater at Downtown Disney in Anaheim and I ran into Wild Bill.
I used to work with Wild Bill and I have never met a more genuine person in my life.
He is a slightly built man with a hint of a southern accent whose gray hair always seemed to have a "Dennis the Menace" cow lick in back.
He is also simple.
Not quite retarded, just simple. He must be around 50 years old now but he probably has more in common with the kids he works with at the AMC.
It had been a few years since we've worked together and he really looked a lot better that he used to. Somewhere along the way, he got his teeth fixed and now could smile without grossing everyone out (he was a yuck mouth).
"VW, it sure is nice to see you," Wild Bill said as he took my ticket.
"Wild Bill, how the heck are you?" I asked.
"Ohhh...not so good. You know my dad died and I sure miss him," replied Wild Bill.
"I'm sorry to hear that. How long has it been since he passed away?" I asked.
"Ohhh...it's been a little over nine months," responded Wild Bill.
The conversation ended as I had to get to my movie. I couldn't help but think about how sad it was that poor simple Wild Bill would still be bringing up his father's death nine months after his passing. It seemed really strange and sad to me then.
Now, I know what a dick I was to be thinking that.
Because I'm part of that same club.
There are multiple life event clubs at work and you don't get invited in until they begin to happen to you.
About to get married? All the married people start talking to you and giving you advice.
About to have a baby? People that have NEVER even spoke with you now can't wait for the latest update on your bundle of joy.
But have a parent die. Well, this is much more of a secret club. It has to be. Because the people that are not in this club don't want to hear about your loss.
It may sound harsh but it is true. It's only been a couple of months since all this went down with my dad and I've already had friends say things like "it's getting close to time for you to be over this" or "maybe you need to get some therapy."
I get where they are coming from. I wouldn't want to hang around with Debby Downer either.
But every single person that I've heard this from has one thing in common.
Both of their parents are still alive.
Today, these people have no idea of what's eventually heading their way and they don't need me to be a harbinger of their future.
So I've cut back talking to them about my dad and this blog and I reach out to others that I know are in the club.
I first went to a former manager of mine who had lost her father immediately before I started working for her. She put it all out on the table for me.
"This is the worst moment of your life. It sucks. And there is nothing you can do about it except to let it suck."
She's right. But she's also in a much different place than me. I'm still a new member to this club and I'm so raw emotionally that it is painful to hear this.
I also get to welcome in some people in my life to this club. Three friends of mine have lost a parent since I've lost my dad.
I try to be there for them because I get where they are at. We talk about the people that are not in the club and how they don't understand us right now.
We know that someday, we'll need to be there for them.
VW
I used to work with Wild Bill and I have never met a more genuine person in my life.
He is a slightly built man with a hint of a southern accent whose gray hair always seemed to have a "Dennis the Menace" cow lick in back.
He is also simple.
Not quite retarded, just simple. He must be around 50 years old now but he probably has more in common with the kids he works with at the AMC.
It had been a few years since we've worked together and he really looked a lot better that he used to. Somewhere along the way, he got his teeth fixed and now could smile without grossing everyone out (he was a yuck mouth).
"VW, it sure is nice to see you," Wild Bill said as he took my ticket.
"Wild Bill, how the heck are you?" I asked.
"Ohhh...not so good. You know my dad died and I sure miss him," replied Wild Bill.
"I'm sorry to hear that. How long has it been since he passed away?" I asked.
"Ohhh...it's been a little over nine months," responded Wild Bill.
The conversation ended as I had to get to my movie. I couldn't help but think about how sad it was that poor simple Wild Bill would still be bringing up his father's death nine months after his passing. It seemed really strange and sad to me then.
Now, I know what a dick I was to be thinking that.
Because I'm part of that same club.
There are multiple life event clubs at work and you don't get invited in until they begin to happen to you.
About to get married? All the married people start talking to you and giving you advice.
About to have a baby? People that have NEVER even spoke with you now can't wait for the latest update on your bundle of joy.
But have a parent die. Well, this is much more of a secret club. It has to be. Because the people that are not in this club don't want to hear about your loss.
It may sound harsh but it is true. It's only been a couple of months since all this went down with my dad and I've already had friends say things like "it's getting close to time for you to be over this" or "maybe you need to get some therapy."
I get where they are coming from. I wouldn't want to hang around with Debby Downer either.
But every single person that I've heard this from has one thing in common.
Both of their parents are still alive.
Today, these people have no idea of what's eventually heading their way and they don't need me to be a harbinger of their future.
So I've cut back talking to them about my dad and this blog and I reach out to others that I know are in the club.
I first went to a former manager of mine who had lost her father immediately before I started working for her. She put it all out on the table for me.
"This is the worst moment of your life. It sucks. And there is nothing you can do about it except to let it suck."
She's right. But she's also in a much different place than me. I'm still a new member to this club and I'm so raw emotionally that it is painful to hear this.
I also get to welcome in some people in my life to this club. Three friends of mine have lost a parent since I've lost my dad.
I try to be there for them because I get where they are at. We talk about the people that are not in the club and how they don't understand us right now.
We know that someday, we'll need to be there for them.
VW
posted by JVW at 7:57 PM
2 Comments:
John - I don't know if you still read these comments... but this one about the Club really hit me. Because it is so true- you can't understand it until you've been there. But it does make you aware of how important it is to support others, long after life has gone back to normal for everyone else... I'm slowly working my way through this blog. I often cry... and laugh too.
Elizabeth
Thanks for the comment!
I get a little email notification when someone posts here. :)
Thanks for reading! I enjoy the feedback. I'd really like to get this into a manuscript this year and see about getting it published.
I titled this post "I'm in the club" a little ironically because the 50 Cent song was popular at this time.
I'm glad you're laughing at parts. I really wanted the humor to be there.
john
Post a Comment
<< Home