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15 October 2004 @ 11:01 am
Decisiveness is not something that comes naturally to me  
I've decided I'm not going to Kaveh's memorial this evening. You know what? I don't think Kaveh would've wanted me or anyone else to go, either.

His wife is hosting a party in the house where he killed himself, hiring caterers and wait staff and inviting scads of people who are supposed to get all gussied up.

Fine, that doesn't bother me so much. Parties are great. I love the idea of the FUNeral- a nice get-together where everyone shares stories, laughs, and has a good time. No one cries, because really, why cry? It should be a celebration of a life well-lived. I always found interesting the parts in "Slaughterhouse Five" and "Stranger in a Strange Land," where some of the characters don't mourn a loss and in fact, don't understand why people get upset when other people die. Sure, they don't exist in those moments, but they existed in so many other moments, will always exist there.

This memorial isn't going to be a FUNeral, though. It's not even going to be about Kaveh. His wife is after damage control. You see, he blamed her and her affair in the suicide letter. The man's not around anymore, though, can't defend himself, so you know what she's been doing? Spreading all kinds of bullshit everywhere about how "sick" he was, what a snow-white blameless victim she is, and how the affair was "all in his head." This memorial is simply going to be a continuation of that, and I for one am not going to entertain or even acknowledge it. Kaveh's wife can be a very good and loving person when she wants to be, and I won't deny that she's done some wonderful things for me in the past. But spend any serious amount of time with her, and you know she's the type who gets around, especially when it would involve a career advancement (which this did).

My mom is going to be pissed at me times twelve, but I'm really tired of being the little puppet on a string that she drags everywhere to maintain whatever image she wants other people to have of her. I have to be my own person now; time to exercise some freedom.

I hope one day, when he's old enough to understand (and hopefully his autism won't interfere with that), someone will have the balls to tell Kaveh's son what really happened. I hope he doesn't grow up thinking his dad was sick or didn't love him, because neither was the case. I'd tell him, but I have a feeling that Kaveh's wife is going to pack up and leave town soon and not leave a forwarding address.
 
 
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