It was 10 years ago today that Whit left us.
We've all experienced grief, or will, and it's different for us all. None of us does it perfectly; what an implausible concept that is. One of my own imperfections is that I experience something that would ordinarily be felt - by me, at least - as a 100% gratifying, exhilarating thing of beauty and admiration. And then the appreciation is immediately compromised, diminished by the thought that Whit will never be able to share in it, knowing how much he would have appreciated it as well. It happens all the time, though I'm getting modestly better at experiencing my definition of beauty in nature, music or whatever, without letting what's not overwhelm what is.
Below is a link to nothing more than a contemporary bluegrass song by a band that's stretching and enhancing the definition. If you don't like bluegrass as much as I do, that's absolutely fine, totally not the point. I just appreciate the newness, the freshness, the absolute pinnacle of musicianship that's represented here, I could watch the video 50 times, and I wish Whit could see it too. I KNOW he would love it. It just hurts knowing everything he will never have gotten to experience. And I know I'm not the only one. I can't have thoughts like this, especially in the month of his death, without the feeling of sorrow over Esme Kenney, whose death at 13 preceded Whit's by just a few weeks. I remember attending her memorial service and not comprehending how Lisa and Tom were even able to stand, much less interact with people. A few weeks later it was my turn, and I had to do it myself, even if I didn't understand how. Still don't. Guess it's a bit like Mark Twain wrote on the one year anniversary of receiving - from across the ocean - the news of his daughter Susy's death at 24, the same age as Whit: "It is one of the great mysteries of our nature, that a man, all unprepared, can receive a thunder-stroke like that and live. There is but one reasonable explanation of it. The intellect is stunned by the shock and but gropingly gathers the meaning of the words. The power to realize their full import is mercifully lacking." That last part comes later, and lasts.
We've all experienced grief, or will, and it's different for us all. None of us does it perfectly; what an implausible concept that is. One of my own imperfections is that I experience something that would ordinarily be felt - by me, at least - as a 100% gratifying, exhilarating thing of beauty and admiration. And then the appreciation is immediately compromised, diminished by the thought that Whit will never be able to share in it, knowing how much he would have appreciated it as well. It happens all the time, though I'm getting modestly better at experiencing my definition of beauty in nature, music or whatever, without letting what's not overwhelm what is.
Below is a link to nothing more than a contemporary bluegrass song by a band that's stretching and enhancing the definition. If you don't like bluegrass as much as I do, that's absolutely fine, totally not the point. I just appreciate the newness, the freshness, the absolute pinnacle of musicianship that's represented here, I could watch the video 50 times, and I wish Whit could see it too. I KNOW he would love it. It just hurts knowing everything he will never have gotten to experience. And I know I'm not the only one. I can't have thoughts like this, especially in the month of his death, without the feeling of sorrow over Esme Kenney, whose death at 13 preceded Whit's by just a few weeks. I remember attending her memorial service and not comprehending how Lisa and Tom were even able to stand, much less interact with people. A few weeks later it was my turn, and I had to do it myself, even if I didn't understand how. Still don't. Guess it's a bit like Mark Twain wrote on the one year anniversary of receiving - from across the ocean - the news of his daughter Susy's death at 24, the same age as Whit: "It is one of the great mysteries of our nature, that a man, all unprepared, can receive a thunder-stroke like that and live. There is but one reasonable explanation of it. The intellect is stunned by the shock and but gropingly gathers the meaning of the words. The power to realize their full import is mercifully lacking." That last part comes later, and lasts.
Anyway, here's the video, for what it's worth. Perfect, it's even a prison song!
Jeff Smith, Whit's Dad
5 comments:
Hi Jeff,
Thinking of you this season and of Whit. I wanted to let you know that, as I am finishing my master's project, I would like to name the program (which is an improv-based program designed for mixed groups of students on and off the autism spectrum) "Super Friends." I always appreciated Whit's courageous, satirical use of it and it is my way of honoring him, as we bring together groups of kids to promote social skills, friendship, and inclusivity. We may be terribly imperfect individuals but we can do our best to be super to others.
My heart goes out to you.
Love,
Jenny
Good evening,
I came across your beloved sons blog today. My age is 25 and I am from London,England. Whit was a genuine soul, he was intelligent and creative. The blog moved me. You should be proud of the son you raised. I hope time is a healer for you. You are in my prayers.
Best wishes,
Vincenzo
Dear Vincenzo,
Acknowledgement of any sort to Whit’s voice has become sparse over the past couple of years, which partly explains why your words mean so much to me. But describing him as a “genuine soul” really puts it over the top and sums him up perfectly. Thank you for taking the time to share your response. It means a great deal to me.
Sincere regards
Jeff
Dear Jeff,
I stumbled upon this wonderful account of part of your son's life today, after seeing your question to Laura about cat food on the NextDoor app. (I have offered a few items, including cat food as well to Laura.)
I noticed your link at the bottom of your NextDoor comment to Whit's blog which led me to many examples of what an intelligent, talented, sensitive, kind and caring soul he was. I also really enjoyed seeing the many adorable pictures of him growing up. It has been very moving and also very disturbing to read, especially the part about him being in solitary confinement for so long and that they are essentially refusing to provide an account of the circumstances surrounding his passing.
I don't claim to fully understand the level of grief and sadness and loss that you have experienced through this tragedy, but I do feel a great sense of kinship with you, as many surely do right now. My mother is in a skilled nursing unit mere blocks from here and no one is allowed to visit and added to that fact is that her phone has "mysteriously" disappeared recently. The sense of powerlessness and helplessness is extremely trying, at best. The isolation that this virus thing has imposed on all of us is downright inhumane, as I believe what your son went through was as well.
Anyway, just wanted to let you know that his legacy, what he brought to the world as a sincere friend, family member and a lovely person in general is still very much alive. May you feel some sense of comfort knowing what a stellar individual he was and that he has had a great impact of good on quite a few people. I am so very sorry that in this sometimes very hateful world, he ended up having so many of his liberties taken from him which is a very sad thing indeed. Thank you for sharing him with us.
Kind regards,
Marney Ogle
Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Marney. It's not often that I actually hear from someone, a stranger who didn't know Whit personally either, who really gets it. It's clear that you do. I suspect that's a great part of simply who you are, but I also note with distress that you have some personal experience - your mother - which unfortunately gives you an additional reason to relate. But know that it means the world to me when I hear that Whit's voice is still alive somehow, still reaching people. Thank you for taking the time and being open enough to share your thoughts.
I'll be bringing some cat food as well as some groceries over to Laura tomorrow as well. Please feel free to stay in touch. I'm at jeff.transtech@gmail.com.
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