Sunday column: Mourning edition

Yeah, I see what I did there.

I got two wonderful questions about opposite sides of the mourning dilemma: How do you handle a large outpouring of cards, flowers, and so on, and what do you do when people didn’t come through as you hoped? I answered them both here. I’m very proud of this one, if I say so myself:

The death of people we love is freaky like a tornado. You expect loss and devastation once the storm has passed. But while much is destroyed, much more is simply, and disturbingly, displaced. The construction workers? Porta John is now inside the dining room. The children?s treehouse now sports a Dunkin? Donuts sign.

Similarly, when you are in mourning, fury or glee or startling clarity may flood your mind at the most incongruous moments. Psychologically, the trick is to stay open to genuine insight and personal change while not mistaking every emotional spasm for an epiphany.

And so on.

Coincidentally, there is another piece in the magazine by Roberta Waters, titled “A Grieving Mom’s Request,” about exactly that–what the friends of a bereaved parent should know. Check it out:

blockquote>My loss is not contagious. You shouldn?t be scared to be with me. Any discomfort you initially feel should subside if you give it a chance and give me a chance. If you are planning an evening out, a lunch date, a getaway, please make an extra effort to include me. I often feel like a pariah. My intention is not to ?bring you down,? and I do my best not to burden anyone with my sadness. Don?t feel awkward inviting me to have some ?fun,? and don?t assume I won?t want to join in, so why even bother asking. I may often decline, but it is comforting to be included. Being excluded is killing me.

Slow posting because I was at Stage the Future, the second annual conference on science-fiction theater, all weekend. Yeah baby! It was fantastic. Highlights to come!