Sunday, December 6, 2009

Pretty pictures: Anthurium andraeanum NOID; also, Personal-ish: funeral. But not in that order.

Terribly distracted as I write this (late Saturday night), because I just talked to Dad about the funeral mentioned previously, and it actually sounds like it was pretty traumatic for all present. Dad actually said it was the hardest funeral he'd ever gone to. (Technically, he said "probably the hardest:" I come by my tendency to hedge and qualify statements genetically, it would appear.) I consider myself extremely lucky both for not having to go and for not having to make the decision about whether or not to go.

Dad also, somewhat against my will, gave me details about the death and subsequent events that make it considerably more horrible and painful. Based on what Dad had to say, there's at least one, and probably two, horrible and painful aftershocks yet to come, either of which would be plenty bad on its own.

I know this is all really vague: it's vague on purpose. Privacy reasons, mostly. Also it's not really any of your business, however much I kinda want to talk about it. And I do!

You really don't want to know the details anyway, I promise. I sure as hell didn't.

Or, I mean, I did, being curious and all, but I can't say I'm happy to have gotten the details I got. This really is no way to run a universe. (I'm reminded of Glory's line in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode "No Place Like Home:" I could crap a better existence than this.)


I'm having some trouble focusing, and am, in any case, not really in the mood for plants at the moment. Monday will be better. Here are some Anthurium flowers.


lynn'sgarden said...

Even though it's none of our business, Mr_Subj...what are the aftershocks? Of course I can understand you wanting to be vague, on purpose, but now that you've mentioned it...

Funerals for people much younger than me~that's always the hardest to hear/read about.

Anonymous said...

Once upon a time I went to funerals - if it seemed necessary - but I'm much happier now that all my friends have moved on to the idea of memorial services, at some remove from the even itself, and all there are there because they really knew the missing person in wonderful ways. Good stories and great reunions with folks you really want to see. I just decided to categorize funerals as being not condusive to my mental health. I'm fine with you sparing us the details and in fact I'm rather sorry anyone burdened you with them.

Question. Why do I find some flowers so repellent? Passion flowers! Ugh. Anthuriums, ditto. If I had to choose between one of those and a plastic plant I'd opt for the plastic. Nice pics though, you got that lovely patent leather shine.

Nell Jean said...

Sympathies to the family involved. Attending a funeral or memorial is done out of respect to the deceased and to comfort the bereaved, not because it is enjoyable. Death is a natural part of living, but the death of a young person is a tragedy. We tend to have a need to talk about it. I hope you have someone with whom you can discuss this traumatic event so you don't have to put it out for public titillation.

Now to anthuriums. Stumbling upon an anthurium fully bloomed is ho-hum. Watching an anthurium flower unfold over a period of days is a joy. I had a choice, bought a white. Wish I'd bought a red as well, now that Christmas approaches, but all the begonias I saved from the cold brighten up the place.

mr_subjunctive said...


Unfortunately, there is no way to describe the aftershocks without being more specific about the death itself.


That does sound better than funerals. But then, a lot of things sound better than funerals.

I still like Anthuriums, I don't care what you say. :^P Mostly what I like about them is the combination of the foliage (which I'm very fond of) and the fact that they're relatively easy (for me) to bring into bloom. I'm really fairly happy, most of the time, to stick to leaves, and not worry about whether a plant is going to flower or not, but that doesn't mean I don't still like it if they do, and even if the texture might not appeal to you, the colors are frequently pretty rich and interesting. At least to me.

Nell Jean:

But does attending a funeral show respect to the deceased or comfort the bereaved? Dad said nobody seemed very comforted, and I can't imagine the deceased really cares who does or doesn't show up.

With most flowers, the anticipation of the flower is better than the flower itself (I might make an exception for scented flowers like Gardenia or Oncidium). Though some of the large-flowered Anthuriums are pretty impressive to me when fully opened, if to nobody else.

CelticRose said...

I'm sorry to hear you and your family are going through difficult times, Mr. S. :-(

I hope things get better for you soon.

Karen715 said...

I can only repeat what Celtic Rose said. I'm sorry that you are going through this, and hope things will get better, all around.

Anonymous said...

Mr S, you have my sympathy and so does your family. I hope that your whole family, both your staunch allies and the people you cannot come out to, find some peace doing whatever it is that each of them really loves.

You folks aren't alone in having deaths in the family that will have repercussions much later, and in having some funerals that fail to bring comfort or peace. I've been to some funerals that definitely failed to comfort the bereaved, and they're the saddest. I hope that we continue to evolve away from that, but some folks are pretty brittle in their grief and push others into a forced march of "This is how it is supposed to be done."

Once all the relatives have gone home and the funeral is long over, loneliness can be a terrible beast for people who are still grieving. A thoughtful letter or two might be a great way to channel your feelings into something comforting for a relative. They are very hard letters to write, but you certainly have the writing talent, and the point is really to make a person feel their hardship isn't forgotten. It's an option, if you're still feeling like you're not sure what to do.

Claude said...

I'm very sorry to hear about your families loss... It's difficult when people die so young.