Mourning. What does it really mean. According to the Oxford dictionary, mourning means sadness that you show and feel because someone has died.
Okay. But, who gets to partake in it when a certain person dies? What are the rules? Are there any rules? What if you don't care about the rules!
My personal story relates to the father of my ex. He passed away at the end of May. His funeral was not publicly announced. I was not notified by my ex of her dad's death. His funeral took place just this past weekend (June 12th, 2021). I was more saddened than shocked that there was no public announcement of this wonderful man's death; there was no obituary posted – not even by the funeral home that tended to his funeral arrangements. The reason is not important. It is sad, but it is not for me or anyone else to judge. Every person, every family mourns and honors their departed in different ways.
The person who died was a true gentleman. He was all good things a person could ever want from a dad or a male role model. He was the closest thing I had to a dad when I was with my ex. He did not interfere in our lives, nor did he ever give unwanted advice. He lived a good life; walked the walk, per se, which was enough to inspire me to want to be the best person I could be.
My ex's dad was a quiet person, but he had plenty to say when anyone gave him the chance to talk. His wife was a rather loud and narcissistic type who usually commanded all the attention to herself. She was not a bad person, but she definitely needed more attention than most, and her advice was almost always out-of-line and unwanted. But, the dad, he was different. He was diffident, unpresuming, and cordial.
I found out that this gentle soul passed away by my ex's brother via social media. Her brother and I did not purposely seek one another out on social media. The fact that his personal and political views mimic mine almost to the tee is the reason he and I connected. We both belonged to the same political and social groups, so we ended up getting fb friend suggestions. One could say it was serendipitous; I say it was serendipitous, too, with a hint of karma. I have always liked my ex's brother. When I met him, I thought he was kind, smart, funny, a good cook, and that he had good taste in music. His wife was equally blessed with those kind attributes. My ex's brother seems to have remained all those things to this day, and the fact that we share the same politics and moral views is why I "get" (understand) him. I really looked up to him back in the day, but I never admitted the way I felt about him to my ex because I did not like revealing too much about my feelings back then. I always felt odd and out-of-place around her family, so for me to profess my like of her family meant (to me at that time) that I was disrespecting my own family who lived some 300 miles away. And boy did I miss my family something fierce. I don't think my ex realized how much I loved and missed my family. Now that I think about it and have had extensive training and instruction in college (now grad school) about psychology and the human psyche, I believe I was a victim of pathogenic beliefs.
Anyway, I did not attend the gentleman's funeral, but I did mourn him. I remained as respectful as possible and stayed away from my ex and her mom because my ex is the one who perpetuated the 'cutting of ties' with me years ago (e.g. social media). Her mom did the same: blocked me on social media. I am not sure why they both blocked me, but it doesn't matter, and it doesn't take a brick building to fall on me for me to acknowledge that I should respect their decision to cut off ties with me, especially now as they mourned their loved one. I decided to just remain silent. I did however extend my condolences to my ex's brother and that was enough. I did not share stories (well, maybe one) with my ex's brother regarding how their late father helped me out so much back in the day, but it was/is enough for me to remember him (the dad) and his generosity.
I drew this picture and shared it with my ex's brother. This is how I will remember their dad. Thank you, Mr. E. L. Felan, for your kindness, respect, and tutelage. You will be missed but always remembered.
