REPLIES TO DEATH POST COMMENTS:

Instead of replying in the comments section of my previous post, I thought I’d write an actual response to all you splendiferous mothafukas that took the time to write such impassioned comments. Y’all is some truly delightful sum bitches.

Okay, enough gooey praise.

I’ll respond to Green first, as he has been my most ardent commenter and loyal reader, especially over the past year as Facebook has taken my Blogger family away from me one by one:

I’m not afraid of death either, I’m afraid of a wasted life. I don’t scoff at your belief in a bright and sunny reward in the after-life, I simply don’t share it. I have my own beliefs about what happens once we’re no longer in our bodies and it isn’t based on a reward system of faith and devout observation. I disagree strongly with the idea that what happens after we die doesn’t matter if there’s nothing after. In fact, I think that’s insane. AG is absolutely right when he writes that it matters even more what we do if we don’t have the luxury of faith in a pleasant reward. In that scenario, we only have one time to get “it” right and whatever we do would have lasting implications on future generations. I suppose if you have no conscience, that doesn’t matter but most of us do. And yes, perhaps I do seek “inner peace,” but easy answers and fairytales don’t provide them.

AG: Yeah, funerals are for the living in most cases, unless you’re former EFB’s egomaniacal Dad. His funeral was very much for himself. I guess if it helps those I leave behind to mourn me in a building with music and flowers and endless religious platitudes so be it, but like you I don’t really care what happens next. I do care about how my body is disposed of, however. I choose cremation, which many Christians frown upon because they believe the body must be intact for when Christ rides down on Pegasus and reanimates corpses and, hopefully, brings lots of Lysol. I guess God can’t reanimate ashes; there they go again, putting the all-powerful God in a box.

Madge: You are absotively correct. My gripe is with my life itself. I do feel that I came close to having lived but I backed away and wound up in some sort of cocoon. Whether or not I have touched anyone deeply, I suppose I have had a definite impact on lives. I know I’ve touched people on Blogger that’s why you guys are special to me and why I tagged you in the Facebook note. The rest of those fair-weather fuckheads will come and go like the fad-chasers they are. You guys are my core and I love every single one of you for it, even those of you who read but no longer comment. Being over 35 doesn’t matter to me, it’s just that I never thought I’d live as long as I have. As far as life being a gift, I would like my gift receipt!

My dearest Autumn: as usual, you hit the donkey on the nail with the head and tail thingee! It is the story that matters. As a writer, I find it to be true for me even more than it is for others. It’s not the peaceful death of the well-lived life that effects me, it’s the tragic ending of the guy everybody loved who died trying to mend fences with a stubborn, arrogant family. It’s the idea of me having made no significant impact on the world being snuffed out like a Roman candle. These are the tales that send me into such deep thoughts of despair. But I am touched that I have served as an inspiration to you. I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before. I’m also glad to read that some of you find my sense of humor helpful in hard times. If nothing else, I strive for that. Making people think outside their comfort zones (Green is exempt from this ‘cause he’s all righteous with Gawd) is what I’ve considered to be my mission in life. It’s gratifying to know I’ve accomplished this on a relatively sizable scale. Trust me, not having to support anyone does not fill me with sadness LOL

Oh, and thanks for the womb offer. We’ll chat later. Love you, too.

Blanche: I almost posted this without your comment because it came through after I’d written this. I actually attended both the wake and the funeral. Catholics are huge into displaying dead bodies and talking around them so there he was all exposed for everyone to see. And like you said, it has stuck with me for days now. The tragedy of a guy I think I might have liked who seemed to be loved by so many is a powerful concept. I may well die a successful man, but the “good” part is debatable. I am so intensely flawed. And I am writing another book and have the sequel to the one that’s for sale coming out in the next few months, so there!