the good is oft interred with the bones

actually

i would argue it’s quite the opposite. the bad things a person does in life is oft interred with the bones, actually they are usually well hidden before the body has even cooled. there is nothing like dropping dead to make people forget that you were a “a piece of shit” <–direct quote from the same people who now claim you were an angel.

but i’ve gotten ahead of myself

i have been observing this one girl, she had a boyfriend who beat her quite often and mistreated her as well, aside from this one issue and the fact that she was too afraid of him to do anything about it, they shared a good relationship…if  a relationship where someone uses you as a punching bag can be good. she considers leaving him, friends have to burst down doors to pull him off her, she malices him for days on end

and then, he dies.

now, i am not callous, i don’t celebrate his death, he had good qualities aside from the tendency to beat and it is a loss to see him go

but now , years later, her facebook page is still a shrine to him, she lauds him as the greatest man that ever lived.

and my question is…what about the other things?  there’s no point in holding a grudge, especially against a dead person, but what about being objective?

what is it that makes us incapable of being honest about the shortcomings of a dead person, we aren’t speaking ill of them, but why do we lie? why do we so quickly forget or disguise the other side leaving only this pristine God like memory when what we knew and loved was a human.

is it that there is something within us that feels if they were given more time they could improve themselves? So we do the work for them, and make them the better person they potentially should have been?

is it that in death, and the absence of threat of further abuse we find it easier to forgive?

is it fear that in remembering their weaknesses, without them present to defend themselves, we are maligning their memory?

is it respect for the dead?

what is it?

and why, especially in the case of lovers, do we find it so hard to move on. Even a woman who was planning to leave a man, can suddenly become a slave to his memory, if he dies before she makes her escape. Suddenly no one can compare to the man she sought to flee

but why?

at my funeral i’d like it to sound something like this….she was kind…she was a bitch…she loved animals…she was hideous first thing in the morning

if you’re at the funeral, you probably knew all these things, and still found it within yourself to be my friend or have some relationship with me

so there’s no use sugar coating it now

we are all human, given to failure, we can’t correct them in death, nor can those that survive us correct them by ignoring their existence. the damage has been done. forgive if you can, but don’t lie. I am what I am, even in death

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