I'm going to tell you something and you're not going to like it.
But it's the truth.
And sometimes, like flu shots and Ryan Reynolds movies, the truth hurts.
Here it is: there's no such thing as closure. Not in the truest sense of the word.
Pardon my French, but it's a bullshit, new age-y word imposed on you by people who'd be more comfortable if you just "moved past" whatever pain it is you're in.
The tenth anniversary of 9/11 is upon us, and all around are talking heads reminding us about everything that should give us closure about it. The rebuilding at ground zero. The killing of Bin Laden. The resilience of survivors. The bravery of first responders in the way they've carried on since.
I can't tell if they want us to forget the images of that day or just feel better about them. Either way it seems obscene.
Apparently, back in the day, the word closure had value. That's why all the pundits, journalists, shrinks and new age authors bought boxes of it at the height of the closure market. But it's easy to see the word's lost it's value, and now they want to unload it as fast as they can.
Truth is it hasn't been worth anything since the Kennedy assassination (by the way, still waiting for closure on that).
It seems cynical to say, but we don't really get over anything. Anything that matters.
Which is okay in my book (well, more of an outline really), because there are some things we shouldn't get over.
Collective tragedies like 9/11, the shuttle explosion, Katrina and the murder of (pick a name). To apply the word closure to these events, to say we've come to terms with them, is absurd. To even imply it means we've diminished our capacity to be shocked and moved by them.
Here's another example. On a more personal note, both my parents are dead. They've been dead a long time. In fact, I just checked a few minutes ago - still dead. They're going to be dead for the rest of the time I'm alive. If you've ever lost a loved one, and I hope you haven't because it just sucks, you know the idea of closure is fiction in its purest form. It never goes away. It gets better, more bearable over time, but it's never really gone.
Remember that boy or girl who broke your heart? Your pet you had to put down? Losing your grandmother's wedding ring? Failing your final? Crashing the car? Still stings doesn't it. It should. That's the point.
Just because you finish a chapter in your life doesn't mean you can't hold or revisit the book every once in awhile.
This whole concept of closure betrays a society that places an unreasonable amount of importance on "getting past it" and "getting on with it." You hear phrases like "get over it" and "put it behind you" an awful lot, always from people who aren't looking out for your well-being, but who are uncomfortable around your sadness.
No matter how small the incident or how long the time, we don't handle displays of grief well. We're uncomfortable around it. It makes us feel weak.
What it really should make us feel is human.
