speaking ill of the dead

we all know we're not supposed to, but what if that's the only thing to say about the deceased?

since watching the news in my posh hotel room on the gigantic flat-screen tv yesterday (i know, i need to get over it... it was just so nice), i've been paying attention to all the news and blog posts about senator jesse helms. and they all seem to have one thing in common.

how do i describe it? it's not malicious, yet it's far from sorrow. it's simply honest. a racist, bigoted, old curmudgeon died. and he happened to have been an important public figure. therefore, the media must report, even if there's nothing positive to say....

even fox news noted the senator's bitter opposition to civil rights for blacks and gays, as well as helms' fight against AIDS research, which he believed resulted from "unnatural and disgusting" behavior. (he all but said homos deserved AIDS.)


i can't help but think about my grandfather, who, like helms, was a bitter, mean, old fart with an opinion on everything, an unsurpassed church attendance record, and a horrible drinking problem. had a black man or an obvious homosexual ever walked onto his farm, a gun would've appeared soon after.

when my mother was cleaning out the house and preparing for the estate sale, she found my grandfather's Bible. huge, old, full of notes and cards. and she told me i could have it if i'd like it. while i appreciated the gesture, i quickly said "no, thank you." and then i spoke ill of the dead. to his own daughter.

"sorry, but i don't really want anything that was important to him. i don't want the negative energy connected to him and his belongings." in retrospect, i can't believe i said it. to my mom. and at a terrible time. but i did say it, and whether she thought i was crazy or not, she simply said, "okay." a part of me thinks she agreed.

i wasn't sad that he died, and i can think of nothing positive to say about him. so maybe it's better to say nothing... but that's not my style. i'd rather report the facts.


but i won't speak aloud the thought that crosses my mind as i read about the senator's death, the same thought on my mind when my grandfather died a couple years ago: good riddance.

there's just a tiny bit less hate in the world today than there was yesterday. i have no problem with that.


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