Good Grief

About a year after my ex-husband left, back when I was living in Syracuse, NY, my good friend Fred came to me with a request.  He was set to direct the local theater's upcoming production of Grease, and he asked if I'd audition.  I wasn't sure I was up to performing again, I was still in a pretty major funk, but Fred was very persuasive, and convinced me that I'd really be helping him out. Looking back, I think Fred was just a little worried about me and wanted to help get me back to my old self again, and I'm infinitely glad he did!

I had a blast (That's me, above, in the pink dress!)!!  Grease is a wonderfully fun ensemble show, and even though this fell during a very fragile period in my life, I must say my memories of performing that summer are beautiful and sweet, indeed!

The entire group was exceedingly talented (Fred had a LOT of connections!) including a guy named Jim who portrayed one of the male "greasers" (that's him, above, pretending to "comb" his pompadour!).  To say Jim was energetic would be like stating that Buckingham Palace was a big house.  Jim was a human SPARK PLUG!  You know that Looney Toons cartoon that features the big, fat bulldog sauntering down the street, while a tiny, yappy, happy chihuahua circles him and jumps over him?  That chihuahua was JIM!! He was in constant motion!  He talked loud, sang loud, performed loud, and lived...LOUD!!  He also possessed an enormous heart and was loved by ALL of his fellow cast members, we just needed to remind him to "sshhhh!" every once in a while!

At the celebratory cast party on opening night, Jim introduced me to his wife.  I knew a lot about Melanie because he mentioned her often during rehearsals, and it was obvious he loved her a great deal.  When I shook her hand in greeting, the first thing I noticed was how plain she was.  She was definitely not unattractive, just quite comfortable in a simple, accessory-free top and pair of jeans.  She was a very quiet woman, but also not shy.  She simply preferred to let Jim have the spotlight, which he clearly enjoyed.

Jim told one stupid joke after another that night, and Melanie sat smiling at him, hanging on his every word, throwing her head back and laughing deeply after each punch line.   It was clear that she adored this crazy, loud, attention-starved boy.  I remember feeling such happiness that night as I observed both of them. "See Joan,"  I said to myself, "there really IS someone for everyone.  Maybe there is hope STILL that you will find your soulmate!"

At the end of our successful, fun-filled run, we performed our last show, gave each other reluctant hugs goodbye, and promised we'd all stay in touch.  Someone told me a little while later that Jim and Melanie had just learned that they were expecting their first baby!  I remember thinking, "Boy, that kid is going to be EXHAUSTED!!"

About eight months later, however, I received news of a different kind. It seems that Jim had been working two jobs to help save money for his baby.  Late one night, while driving home from one of them, exhausted, Jim fell asleep at the wheel, crashed, and was killed instantly.  He would never see his son.

The funeral home was packed.  The receiving line extended out the door and across the parking lot, filled with family members and former fellow performers.  As I stood in line with the rest of the Grease alum, I wracked my brain, trying to think of something meaningful and comforting to say when it was my turn to greet Melanie.  I came up with exactly nothing.  What do you say to a woman, eight months pregnant, who has just lost the love of her life and the father of her unborn child?

She was sitting in a chair, and as I knelt down to speak to her, the grief I saw displayed on her face hit me like a punch to the gut.  I blathered something about "calling me if she needed anything, I mean ANYTHING...day or night..blah, blah, blah," then hugged her tight and left, disgusted with myself.

During the funeral service at the church, I watched as the clergyman approached the pulpit to say a few words.  He didn't do much better than I.  He mentioned all the typical things; Jim's in a better place and we should grieve but still move on, yada, yada, yada.  You could actually feel the grief in the room intensify with each empty word.

Then Jim's childhood friend, Mark, approached the podium to deliver the eulogy.  With a smile, he unfolded a wonderful story about when he and Jim were kids.  Apparently there was a certain afternoon where Jim had gotten hold of a pair of REAL handcuffs, and both of them were anxious to try them out.  Jim then proceeded to cuff his younger sister's wrist to her ankle.  Sister was not happy.  Mark told us that when Jim's mom arrived home and was greeted by her shackled, screaming daughter, she angrily approached her son and demanded that he hand-over the key.  Jim replied that he had no key.

Mark, now laughing, told the congregation that he would never forget the image of all of them piling into the car, his poor weepy sister hopping along behind them, and driving to the local police station where "the prisoner" was finally freed!

And then, just like that, an amazing thing happened.  That entire church, including Jim's grief-laden widow, was laughing.  HARD!!  We all chuckled deeply, hugging our sides, remembering our silly friend.  Of COURSE!!  THIS was EXACTLY what Jim would've wanted -- laughter!!  I glanced over at Melanie, still smiling, as she wiped away her tears and sighed deeply.  I wanted to run up to that pulpit and KISS Mark for what he had done for her, for all of us.

I learned a lot that day from Mark.  Now, whenever I am attending a funeral, I try to seek out a member of the grieving family and tell them a story about their departed loved one. Sometimes it might be a recollection of a kind deed they performed, or a silly thing they may have said once.  I like to think it's made a difference.

What about YOU?  What would YOU like to have said at your memorial service?  What story would YOU like to have told?

I hope my eulogist mentions my deep respect and love for the animal kingdom, my enormous heart for the elderly, and the amazing stupidity loyalty I possess that allows me to root for the same horrific, embarrassing, losing NFL football team year after year after year...

Thanks for Reading!!