Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1490058
I recently listened to a podcast with Davina McCall, the well- known British TV presenter speaking about the death of her half-sister from cancer at the age of 50. When recalling the well-attended funeral she pointed out that her quiet, un- assuming sister would have been astonished and overwhelmed to realise how much she was loved. I'm paraphrasing, but what she said next was basically this: "Shouldn't we be doing these grand demonstrations of love towards a person while they are still alive? Why wait for the funeral? Why not have every- one gather together and tell the person to their face how much they are loved and what they have meant to them. Like a liv- ing wake? That's what I want for myself." Of course, in theory this sounds like a great idea. Who wouldn't want to hear acco- lades and glowing eulogies while they are still alive? In practice, however, how do you tell someone who is terminal- ly ill that everyone is coming to give them a big send-off, even if the intention behind it is all very well-meaning? The fact remains that when some- one is ill, the flickering hope that they will recover is al- ways there. Bringing everyone to their home or their bedside to bid them goodbye is almost forcing them to face what they might not be ready to face, even though deep down they might know it is inevitable. Naturally, if the dying person decides to hold this "goodbye" party on their own initiative it is a different matter, although I imagine it would still be inde- scribably emotional, and prob- ably too much to handle, for all concerned. All this was brought to mind with the recent deaths of for- mer Labour MP Silvio Parnis and former Nationalist MP Robert Arrigo who were both unfortunately suffering from an illness. For once, rather than snarky comments, social media was taken over on both occasions by the numerous tributes which poured in, de- scribing their exemplary qual- ities. While I'm sure they were genuine, I always wonder why these words of praise come so profusely and effortlessly only after someone dies. I distinct- ly remember both men being criticised not only for their work as politicians (which is justified) but more cruelly on a personal level. They were both mercilessly mocked for differ- ent reasons throughout their lives. Death, however, changed all this, and suddenly these two men were the best thing to have ever happened to Malta. I am not disputing that they both did good things for their constituents in their own ways…from what I have read by people who knew them, both were gentlemen in the true sense of the word and both lived according to their respec- tive principles, rather than just paying lip service to their ide- als. Parnis was a 'true Socialist', Arrigo was a 'true Nationalist'... and yet the fact remains that in the last few years of their lives they were both discarded by their respective parties. In the case of Arrigo especially, being cast aside by his beloved par- ty was a bitter blow which he spoke about openly. If people are lauded for being so incred- ible and wonderful after they die why are their attributes not acknowledged in their lifetime so that at least they die know- ing that their decades of service to their party were not in vain? In both cases, the Churches where their funeral mass was held was jam-packed, which is always such an essential ges- ture, especially in Maltese so- ciety, that the person was re- spected and loved. "Rajt kemm kellu nies? Faqghu il-knisja!" (Did you see how many peo- ple attended, the Church was bursting at the seams!). While this can be of great comfort to the person's family, as Davina pointed out (and depending on your beliefs the person who passed away will never know that so many turned out for their funeral). So I suppose the real lesson is to let people know how we feel about them while they are still with us, rather than waiting for after they are gone, when we post about it on Facebook. And finally, when a politician dies can we please stop pref- acing our condolences with the words, "even though I am not Labour/Nationalist I am still sorry that he died." Well, I should bloody hope so. I should hope that our ability to pay our respects to another human be- ing is not coloured by whether the person held the same polit- ical allegiance as us. The very fact that some feel the need to even say this irritates me in- credibly and I wish it would stop. It's like saying, "even though he is black (or a refu- gee, or gay, or a woman) I am sorry he/she died". Sounds stu- pid doesn't it? Well, it sounds equally stupid when we make disclaimers about one's politics when it comes to death. Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go Is it possible to die from a broken heart? I think it is, and proof of this is the shocking death of Lisa Marie Presley, 54, who collapsed and died from a massive heart attack on Thurs- day night. It was particularly shocking as we had just been her attend the Golden Globes where Austin Butler, the man who portrayed her father Elvis in the film, had received an award for best actor. Two years ago, Lisa Marie's son, Benjamin Keough com- mitted suicide at the age of 27 and she never got over that heartache. Even writing such a phrase seems callous, for the death of a loved one, especial- ly a child, is not something you can ever "get over". In fact on looking more closely at the photos and videos from the awards ceremony, you could see the life was drained from her eyes and that this was someone just going through the motions. Reports emerging now state that she had become a recluse, hardly ever leaving the house. No one spoke more eloquent- ly about her own grief than Lisa Marie herself in a poignant es- say she wrote which was pub- lished last year. Here are a few excepts which touched me the most: "Grief is incredibly lonely. Despite people coming in the heat of the moment to be there for you right after the loss takes place, they soon disappear and go on with their own lives and they kind of expect for you to do the same, especially after some time has passed. if the loss was premature, unnatu- ral, or tragic, you will become a pariah in a sense. You can feel stigmatised and perhaps judged in some way as to why the tragic loss took place. This becomes magnetised by a mil- lion if you are the parent of a child who passed. No matter how old they were. No matter the circumstances." "I already battle with and beat myself up tirelessly and chroni- cally, blaming myself every sin- gle day and that's hard enough to now live with, but others will judge and blame you too, even secretly or behind your back which is even more cruel and painful on top of everything else." "If I'm being honest, I can un- derstand why people may want to avoid you once a terrible tragedy has struck. Especial- ly a parent losing their child because it is truly your worst nightmare. I can recall a cou- ple of times in my life where I knew parents who lost their child and while I could be there for them when it happened, I avoided them after and nev- er bothered to follow up with them because they quite liter- ally became a representative of my biggest fear. I also low-key judged them, and I swore I'd never do whatever it was that I felt they either did or neglect- ed in their parental actions and choices with their child... Yet here I am, I am now living what it's like to be that same repre- sentative to other parents." "It's a real choice to keep go- ing, one that I have to make every single day and one that is constantly challenging to say the least... But I keep going for my girls… My and my three daughters' lives as we knew it were completely detonated and destroyed by his death. We live in this every. Single. Day." Her advice on how to treat people who are grieving is to encourage them to talk about their loved one, but she has one word of caution: "Do me a favour, don't tell them that 'you can't imagine' their pain. The truth is, oh yes you can – you just don't want to." It is telling that her last Ins- tagram post was a screenshot of the above article. Did Lisa Marie feel she could no longer go on, and that her overwhelm- ing grief was too much for her to bear? Perhaps. I truly be- lieve that our bodies often tell us that a lifetime of emotion- al turmoil, stress and anxiety have taken their toll, and they send us signs through physical manifestations of illness. And sometimes, when the pain and sorrow is just too much to bear, the heart simply cannot survive the excruciating blow. 6 maltatoday | SUNDAY • 15 JANUARY 2023 OPINION Singing people's praises after they've gone Josanne Cassar Parnis was a 'true Socialist', Arrigo was a 'true Nationalist'... and yet the fact remains that in the last few years of their lives they were both discarded by their respective parties