How are we supposed to feel when death comes knockin' at the door?

One of the most difficult issues facing all of us is life and death.
You are supposed to, as we have all been told over and over, conduct yourself in such a way that the life you live will pave way for the way you are remembered and cherished once you leave this Earth and take your place in the heavenly beyond (assuming you do believe in it).
But I guess I’ve been thinking about this concept a lot more recently, as a number of people in my life have passed away. And in my community, the LGBTQ community, once one of our own passes away, we remember them fondly and do whatever we can to make those left behind feel comfort and solace.
But what happens when one of our own passes away, and that person has not been the most, shall I say, pleasant for so many to deal with over the years? How do we treat this person after he or she passes away? Do we hold a benefit to make the expenses less trying for that person’s family? Do we gather together as a united front and remember that person’s life? Do we put something together to make that person’s death more bearable?
Or do we care at all?
These are some questions that have plagued a number of us in the community. Some don’t know how to feel, or whether to feel anything at all. For me, a very spiritual person who was once a member of the ministry, my thoughts are divided. And that makes it much worse.
When a person who has made life sometimes difficult for so many members of the community passes away suddenly, what are we supposed to do? What are some of us supposed to do with the grief we feel, perhaps not for the person, but for respecting the life of a person? We’ve always heard – or I’ve always been told – that everyone has a voice in this world, and it’s up to every one of us to make sure we do our best to make others feel love.
Right now, this is a difficult thing for me to comprehend. And I think that there are always a couple of handfuls of individuals who can successfully separate the good person from the bad person, especially when that person leaves this Earth.
And as I’ve mentioned to a few friends, dealing with a particular person’s death, and wondering what this person’s death means to us – the ones who loved him unconditionally; the ones who tried to reach out to him, and sometimes got their hands bit off; the ones who loved to hate him, and hated to love him; the ones who he betrayed without feeling any remorse until it was too late; the ones who he hurt so easily because he was hurting himself; the ones who he made to feel a little stupid for giving a damn about him; the ones who actually reached him and were able to get into his heart and understand the demons he faced daily – wondering what we all are to do now.
The religious person in me can only pray that this person has finally found peace. He has to answer for his actions now, on his own. And he must face what is coming.
I’ve told a few people that this would be one of the most difficult blogs to write because I’m right there with so many others, wondering what the hell we are supposed to do with all these odd emotions. To be truthful, there's a part of me that doesn't care - and that makes me feel a bit off because Mama didn't raise me to feel such things. Sure, many can joke that this queen is just a “Park Avenue Pollyanna” and I feel too deeply and emphatically for my own good, even when the person doesn't deserve an ounce of it.
But I guess I just want to make sure that the legacy I leave behind is something that people will actually treasure and honor the life I’ve lived. But just being a good kindhearted person doesn’t always cut it, sad to say. And I suppose I’ve been curious about others, and what you believe your legacy will be.
Have any of us really taken the time to think about our legacy? How many of us have hurt others, and haven’t taken the time as of yet to make amends? How many of us will go right out, immediately after reading these words, and hurt, disappoint or anger more people because we feel like it’s our right to do so? How many of us have taken a few moments out of our daily rituals to make life easier for another person, just for the mere enjoyment of doing it?
I was speaking with a couple of good friends the other day about this blog, about this person who passed away, about what we are supposed to do and the next step. One of them suggested a roast. I mean, that’s a great idea, because although this person wasn’t the most liked individual, there is a way to take the emotional toll this has taken on so many, and channel it in some way. And a roast, I’m sure most people would be able to speak their minds, let off some steam, and express – for better or for worse – what this person’s life and death means to them and others. We could donate the money to an LGBTQ organization that could put the funds to good use, and even perhaps use the funds to save someone’s livelihood.
This community has its members who are both good eggs and rotten tomatoes; in fact, some of us possess both traits. No one is all good. And no one is all bad. We take the good with the bad; that’s what makes us human.
I was watching an old episode of “Murphy Brown” the other day about one of Murphy’s rivals passing away, and she was forced to give the eulogy on someone who was disliked by 90 percent of the media industry. She tried to find the good in him, and when she found out the good in him was just misinformation and lies, she was still going to give a positive eulogy – unless the funeral attendees had something good to say about him themselves. No one had anything good to say, so Murphy gave a scorching, negative eulogy. Upon finishing, the priest read the deceased’s final letter, which said so many nice things about Murphy. With egg on her face, it was too late to say anything nice about him. I thought this was one of the funniest episodes ever written, because of the message it relayed. The message: That even though people can seem rotten to the core, there may be one tiny spec of good in there, too. Now I’m not saying that this stands true for everyone, but you never know.
I guess the final thought for me … my plan is to continue to leave a worthy legacy so I can rest easy.
What about you?

I'll just say 'Happy PRIDE everyone' and leave it at that for the time being

I think for everyone who knows me pretty well, that I’ve always been a junkie for any and all things LGBTQ, especially the annual PRIDE parades. In fact, a couple of friends close to me call me, “Everyone loves a parade.”
I’ll get to analyzing this year’s parade later in this blog post, but for right now, I just want to put it out there … this year’s festivities had some ups and downs. And these ups and downs were not some things that people may know, nor may not care either. That’s not my reasoning for blogging about this year’s festivities.
I must admit, I was not fully in the spirit of the joy of gay pride this year. And I take full responsibility for it, too. I kept up the smiles and big laughter, because hey, who wants to know how upset a person is truly feeling when we are all supposed to be celebrating to the full extent.
I did some fun things this year, as I’m never one to turn down a good time. And plus, it helps to get into the spirit. But for this year, it was just a bit tiresome, stressful and a bit depressing. I felt like how I feel about Christmas anymore … I don’t really celebrate it much anymore because the spirit of the season escapes me anymore.
And like I said, I blame myself for my lack of inner enthusiasm for this year’s PRIDE. For many reasons … emotional, financial, spiritual, passion … this past year since last PRIDE, I’ve felt very separated from people. The past 12 months have been very much like riding a rollercoaster with emotions. I was hoping that my feelings would have subsided before PRIDE, but sadly it hadn’t.
Perhaps that is the reason I posted on Facebook last week a little plea to myself. It was not meant to cause a holy war with certain people in the community because, I must state, it was my plea to myself (and whoever took any message from it) to be able to feel the love of PRIDE.
The post was quite simple:
“I just need to feel the love this weekend! So people, let's make sure each of us show each other love and more than just lip service this PRIDE weekend!”
The “lip service” of which I referred was to those individuals who run up to a person during PRIDE weekend and slop sugary sweetness all over you, and once Monday rolls around, they are acting like PRIDE never occurred. Now everyone knows someone like this in their lives, and it’s just about the concept of the action. And I truly did need to feel the love this past weekend, for personal reasons. My personal reasons, just mine.
It seemed that a firestorm erupted on my status; I didn’t even know it until one of my sistas mentioned it to me. I was off Facebook for a bit, and when I viewed all that followed my simple request of showing people the love to one another this PRIDE, it was obvious that the message of my status was lost. I just wanted people to, perhaps, go out of their way to show the love, because as history has shown us over the past few years, we can lose our loved ones, in and out of the community, in the blink of an eye.
So I just hope that the message wasn’t lost on too many people.
Another thing that bothered me as PRIDE approached was that so many younger members of the LGBTQ community had no freakin’ idea about what the elder members of this community have sacrificed to pave the way for all of the younger ones and make life easier for all of us. Now this is not directed to any one or two people in particular, it’s a general thing that I’ve witnessed over the years.
So many want to be named “This Title” or “That Title”, but really don’t know about what came before them. I was floored last year when I asked a few younger LGBTQ members of the significance of the Stonewall Riots and what the drag queens who’ve come before us have sacrificed in blood, sweat and tears … and they had no idea. I just want everyone to be up on their LGBTQ history in general and history – period, because as the theory goes, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
Young ones – there is a bevy of elder LGBTQ members who, if you seek them out, could give you a very entertaining lesson of our history. Ask them about Harvey Milk, Stonewall Riots, Bayard Rustin, Everett George Klippert … the list goes on and on. Now there are a great number of young LGBTQ community members who are well-versed on the history, and that makes me so very proud. But for the ones who don’t, let’s pick up the pace. Just a suggestion.
Something else that boggles my mind happened Sunday during the PRIDE parade. For some reason, and I haven’t been able to find out the answers yet, in the procession there was a 15-20 minute gap in the parade. It was evident that something happened, but at this point it’s not clear. I know there needs to be some form of control in the procession just so things don’t get out of control. But why is it that there was such a huge break in the procession that it made some people question if there were, in fact, a part one and part two to the parade. I’m sorry, and I’m not pointing fingers, but it made some look like they had no idea what they were doing.
Questions have been put out there:
Why is it such a hassle in just letting people progress out of the starting gate?
Why does the order of groups/organizations marching in the parade line need to be so stringent, almost seeming like when we were in grade school when one student didn’t want to sit next to another, so the teacher conceded and made sure they didn’t sit next to each other? Are there groups who don’t want to walk after/before others?
Will this sort of thing happen next year, and what needs to be done to make sure this doesn’t happen again?
Why didn’t anyone putting this all together have anyone stop the paradegoers at the beginning of the line from marching forward until everyone was caught up and we were all a unified marching parade?
These are just questions on people’s minds. Anyone with the answers, definitely let us know. Hey, I’m sure some don’t care too much. But for some reason, in this man’s eyes, it was a little depressing … and I didn’t need any more of that.
Okay, so I don’t sound like a wet blanket, we should all give a huge shout-out for the individuals who busted their asses to give everyone a happy PRIDE weekend. We all need to take a moment and actually thank so many people (too many to mention), but just a few in my mind at the moment: all the workers at Paradise, Hotel Tides Restaurant & Spa, Georgies, and so many other establishments in Asbury Park who made this year’s festivities a successful, fun, safe time for all of us. All the booths at the festival grounds, the fabulous performers at the festival, the organizers of every event this past weekend (including NJ Leather community, Jersey Pride, the Pride Center of NJ, PRIDE Network … the list goes on and on).
There were a number of enjoyable times this weekend, so don’t get me wrong. I was able to enjoy my PRIDE as I was able to see PRIDE for the first time through a couple of good friends' eyes as they were experiencing their first PRIDE; their enthusiasm and zest for the weekend's events brought some happiness in me.
And maybe I’m just a little over it right now because of how I’m feeling at this time. And plus, I felt like I was on roller skates all Sunday afternoon/evening while working the bar at the Tides, and perhaps I’m just still reeling from the crazies of the weekend, me being sober, working my ass off, and just not in the mood – the rude lesbian couple who were too drunk to know what they ordered and just got on my last nerves … or perhaps the straight female who yanked my arm at Paradise, ordering me to get her a drink when I don’t work there; I just had on all black from my Tides bar attire … or perhaps the person I was once involved with who just wouldn’t leave the bar and leave me and some others there alone, especially since I just don’t deal with any of the craziness any longer … or perhaps the fact that I’m just burned out and got tired of people spilling, knocking over other people’s drinks, or the few people who shoved their credit cards in my face when they wanted to pay (even though I was making drinks for people).
But I’m proud of myself, because in none of those instances, did Bernadine show herself.
And for that, people, happy PRIDE!