Thought of the Day 10/18/2014: Of Facebook and Funerals

Even though it's been 8 years, I find this time of year a bit emotionally taxing. October 10th would have been my Sister Amanda's 33rd birthday, then 4 short days later is the anniversary of her death; dying just past her 25th birthday. Each year it brings the same inevitable sequence of contemplations: I ponder my own mortality, check my inner addict, and assess my relative level of happiness; hoping to find that I'm living in a manner consistent with someone who is relatively prepared to bite the dust, be at peace and not leave behind a slew of people who feel regretful regarding our interpersonal relationships. Dare I, or any other member of my family, place a remembrance post on Facebook, I then have to read horrendously misguided messages from people I've never even met before, and sure as shit didn't know my Sister, stating how sorry they are for our loss, how much she was loved and what a precious person she was; surely now enjoying her residency in Heaven. While I appreciate the kind and supportive sentiments, I must say this:

BULLSHIT.

The infamous A-S-S sisters: Amanda (24), Summer (21) and Sarah (22); Our likeness was always contingent on how fat were were, haha. Amanda and I came by our obesity naturally, whereas Sarah's was pregnancy-related, when applicable.

Here's my evidence. Now that we're both thin, I could barely tell who was who in this picture of Sarah and I playing cards while camping; I've never felt so beautiful and proud!

I can only take so many of these posts before I go a bit squirrely and relate a retaliatory post. I basically say the same thing I said in Amanda's eulogy; I loved my Sister dearly, she was a genuinely kind and caring person, but she was also a bi-polar drug and alcohol addict who lied pathologically and didn't seem to know right from wrong, repeating self destructive cycles that led to endless rotations between rehab, half-way houses and jail. I spent more than one night wondering why she hadn't come home, and more than one Christmas at the county slammer; the guards always made me remove my tongue ring.

Yet my post this year, in response to the ludicrous comments on my Mother's post, particularly infuriated a friend of my Mother's; stating on my own wall how disappointed she was in me and that she had lost respect for me. WTF?! If her opinion of me, and respect for me, are based on what I write of Facebook after working 5 12-hour overnight shifts in a row, obviously they were fleeting sentiments from the start. Besides, I've always known her to be an extremely critical and judgmental person, and my many personality flaws often displeased her. She believes I systematically mistreat my Mother, and generally exhibit the uppity consequences of becoming too educated for my own good; not to mention her callus remarks regarding my struggles with an eating addiction from years of dieting. Her lasts words to me being "you're too skinny." I thought it would be a moot point to retort that I thought she was too fat, like over 55% of this country's population. Oh well. I can't control what others say or think of me, but I can control who can communicate with me over social media; can we say 'Blocked'? Petty? Perhaps, yet it gave me an odd sense of satisfaction. My sole concern was that the post hadn't upset my Mother, and it hadn't because she and Sarah share my opinion on this subject; which is appropriate since we are the people who actually knew Amanda.

Over the next day or so, however, my mind refused to let the comment go; lost respect for me?! For simply stating my own opinion about my own dead Sister?! I'm just so fed up with people making her into a saint for their own comfort; though it would doubtlessly be more comforting, I refuse to remember only the good things. I choose to honor my Sister for who she was, the good, the bad, and especially the ugly. Some of the shit she pulled under the influence of whatever drug she was on was the most hilarious shit I've ever experienced, including the time she called 9-1-1 because her dog, a RAT TERRIER, killed her pet RAT; the comedic poeticism is almost overwhelming!

Lastly, I personally do not believe in Heaven and/or Hell; I don't judge those who do and would appreciate their non-judgement in return (not often the case, however). I have my beliefs and steadfast faith in a Higher Power, but it's extremely unconventional. Most importantly, my Spirituality allows me to be at peace with what has happened to my Sister's energy after her body's passing here on Earth. Regardless, being the logical scientist that I am; using it to neutralize emotions I otherwise don't know how to process, I must admit that if I'm wrong and there is a Heaven and Hell in the traditional sense, my sister's way of life and beliefs did not earn her a place amongst the purest of the pure in Heaven. Simple fact; no more, no less. What's more, you won't find me there either. Consequently, I realized I was upset because these people had not a clue who my Sister really was, then they have the audacity to judge me on correcting them! No one really knew Amanda's true colors except the two sister's she was forced to take a hand in raising at the tender age of 7, neglecting her own childhood in the process, cultivating the emotional scars that, I believe, directly contributed to her many mental instabilities. Was she a Good Person? Damn yes. Did I love her? Unconditionally. In fact sometimes I close my eyes and remember the way she said "I love you, Summie," and how if felt when she kissed my check; a combination of soft lips and cold metal from her many facial piercings. Regardless, IF there was a heaven, would she be there? Fuck no. It's simple logic, like it or not.

Personally, should something tragic befall me, I want to be remembered for the person I truly am, not who people wanted or pretended me to be. For better or worse I'm a brutally honest, passionate (Treebeard may call it hasty), hopelessly neurotic, over-sharing control freak who loves exercise and is mortally afraid of getting fat. I love people in general, but I'm not always nice and often offend and/or appall others as I have no social filter. My serenity is extremely fragile and tethered to my limited ability to govern my ego. I'm friendly, talkative and mostly funny, but that's also coupled with bouts of extreme crankiness and agitation as well as a proclivity for the use of excessive profanity. I try to be a good friend, but can really only be depended on to flake and act in a selfish manner; stubbornly doing what I want to do regardless of the wishes and needs of others. So, when I die don't just remember the Summer who made you laugh or supported you in a time of need, but also the Summer who told you to Fuck off once or twice because she'd rather play Pogo, exercise, or write on her blog, or started crying when you offered her a cookie.