Inconceivable.

The memorial for Russel was today. I went up early. I wanted to make sure that the physical needs of the day were taken care of by someone other than Barb. I wanted to do something, to take care of her, to let her know that there would be at least one person in the house throughout the day who did not need HER to take care of THEM. I knew that the emotional complexity of the day would be enough for her to bear. She was wearing Russel's shirt, a large, black t-shirt with Wallace Shawn from 'The Princess Bride' on it. It said, 'Inconceivable' in large print across the bottom. As I hugged her for the first time since getting her phone call, I thought of the appropriateness of the shirt, the phrase, and her wearing it on this day. The loss of her father 12 months ago, three days after her wedding? Inconceivable. Breaking her foot during volleyball practice by taking a small step? Inconceivable. The death of her mother a few months later? Inconceivable. Her house burning down? Inconceivable. Russel's death? Inconceivable. A life and a future without him in it? Inconceivable. And yet, here we were, gathering to honor him, and all she has are her memories and his things.
Throughout the day, I watched as people moved in and out of the house, mingled with each other, sometimes sharing words, other times a somber look or a gentle touch. I was not surprised by the number of people there. Russel was an awesome human being who touched the lives of just about everyone he met in a positive way. I marveled at the relative calm of all present. The grief was palpable throughout the house, but almost everyone there behaved remarkably well and respected the enormity of Barb's grief by stiffling their own. Almost.
It is inconceivable to me how some people can take any situation and make it about themselves. I don't care to name them, but several people in attendance today showed their asses, and in doing so, compounded the hurt and loss felt by Barb and those closest to her. And to them I say, get over yourselves. Not everything is about you. Not everything should be about you. And if you can't put someone else first, even at a time like this, then you deserve the misery you've wrought. And even that is more time and attention than they deserve.
And now the memorial is over. Barb is left, alone, to figure out how to make life go on from here. Every plan, every want, every hope for the future has been inconceivably altered by Russel's death. And as much as I'd like to think that I can help her find her way, I know that I can't. Phone calls, cards, and visits only go so far in helping the healing. And not that it matters one bit, but my heart is still broken for her.