Physical Expressions of Grief

Slump over. The slump is a good expression of misery that most people can recognize.

If that doesn't work, then let the corners of your mouth turn down. Ever noticed how some people get old and seem to have a permanently sad expression while others seem to look happy even when they're at rest? It's those mouth corners.

Well, here's another one, a bit old fashioned but it works: wring your hands. It physically expresses powerlessness. We do so much with our hands. Flinging them about says, "I can't do anything useful, I'm helpless."

Lost Dog

Lost dog--are there any sadder words? I read that posted on the telephone pole near my house, and there was a picture of a mournful beagle in black and white, fixing his gaze on me as I drove past. If you lose your dog, the world as you know it ends. None of the things you need to do are really needs. In fact, you forget all about them and focus on putting up contact information and pictures of your dog everywhere. Your kids go nuts. They won't go to soccer or ballet, instead they'll stay home and cry, call their friends and cry, post on Facebook and cry. They will somehow decide it's your fault, but that won't make you feel any worse than you already do.

I saw a documentary on the Katrina disaster in New Orleans. I felt terrible for the people, but the sign that really broke my heart was the huge black letters straggling over the white clapboard house: NO DOG FOUND. Three words carrying a whole tureen of grief. Movies sometimes capture this feeling. I still feel miserable each time I think about Sounder. He was a dog beloved by a sharecropping family's boy. The boy's dad stole food, was caught, and went to prison, and Sounder disappeared. The boy's dream about a happy return of both dad and dog was so heartbreaking. Where are my tissues?

Forget your misery?

The neurobiologists have developed a drug that can selectively delete memories of rats and mice. They speculate it might be useful for humans too. I could be interested. I'm sorry I remember certain things. For example, my mother held my hand (so I couldn't flee) and made me go to ask Will for my tricycle back. I had given it to him that morning. My knees still shake when I think about knocking on his door. I'd love to forget the day I realized I could go to the senior prom after all, when I'd thought the date conflicted with a trip. I called Mac to let him know, and of course he had another date he'd asked meanwhile. He was so agonizingly polite it still sets my teeth on edge to remember it. And then, I suppose I feel guilt and sadness about my part time job in college, where I cut the heads off fruit flies. I needed the money. The guilt comes in because I invested each fly with a personality and name derived from dentists, professors of mathematics and physics, bad dates from the Naval Academy, etc. So, if you're sad, take heart. Soon the scientists will give you pills, and like Alice, you'll lose all contact with reality.