What happens when things end, especially relationships? This usually refers to breakups that, by definition, shatter a once precious connection. Think of a chasm and a broken heart at its bottom.
Julian Barnes knows what loss feels like. His wife of 30 years, Pat Kavenaugh, died in 2008 from an aggressive form of brain cancer. There were 37 days between her diagnosis and her death.
The author found his wife’s approach to her demise both stoic and graceful, “never angry or cross.”
The writer described the depression that followed in a recent interview with Terry Gross on “Fresh Air.”
It was like being caught in an avelanch. Every day it became worse. It was the most appauling thing that happened in my life and the blackest, the thing that deprived you of hope and balance. It took me years to get over it.
Barnes recalled that he considered killing himself if the grief didn’t stop. A few weeks after his wife’s passing, he found himself thinking of taking his life as he walked on a familiar path home.
I looked across the curb on the other side of the road … and I thought I can kill myself … that’s permissible. It’s not unforgiveble in my morality. I’m extremely unhappy, I’m bereft, though I have many friends. And I think I said, or a friend said to me: give it two years and, ok, I’ll give it two years.
But before that two year period elapsed I discovered why I couldn’t kill myself: I wasn’t allowed to kill myself. And that’s because I was the best rememberer of my wife. I knew her and I had celebrated her in all her forms and all her nature, and I had loved her deeply. And I had realized that if I had killed myself then, in a way, I’d be killing her, too.
I’d be killing the best memories of her, they would disappear from the world, and I wouldn’t allow myself to do that. And at that point (my thought of killing myself) just turned on its head and I knew I would have to live with the grief a long, long time, but I didn’t think an answer to the grief was killing myself.
The writer has never believed in God, nor does he hold the idea of being reunited with his wife in heaven. His view of human existence is that “life is not a short walk across an open field. There is always something waiting for you, coming out of a hedgerow at you.” His writing has long dealt with endings.
Mr. Barnes continues to write and is a much-celebrated, award-winning, prolific author.
Six years ago, however, he was diagnosed with a rare form of blood cancer. It is treatable and, with continued daily medication, he is not likely to die from this condition.
His continuation of life, as he describes it, is a form of responsibility. He did not want the thoughts and stories and fullness of his wife to vanish because of his own suicide. Nor, it seems, to dispense with his meaningful affection for her and remembrance of her.
Were we to follow his example, we would all keep photos and movies, enjoy mentioning the departed with those we know, and share our memories. I have friends who have written their own biographies using StoryWorth to leave an account of their lives for those who care about them.
Indeed, I have completed such a memoir myself, including advice that it will be more than proper for them to laugh about me once I am gone.
We don’t want to be forgotten, do we?
But while we live, we should “live” with all the strength, joy, and kindness we can muster, as demonstrated by Julian Barnes getting married again a few months ago, 17 years after his loss of Pat Kavanaugh.
What a marvelous thing it must have been for him to marry again, at 80.
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The first photo is of Julian Barnes at Headred, 2018, Estonia. It was sourced from Wikimedia Commons and is the work of WanderingTrad. Next comes a picture of Pat Kavanagh, an image from the Evening Standard. Finally, Barnes, with his second wife, Rachel Cugnoni, sourced from the Telegraph.
I ordered his new book from the library. Look forward to it.
You might want to try “The Sense of an Ending.” It is very short, but many I know who read it begin to read it a second time almost immediately. Very powerful.
I remember that book. One thing I like about Jewish religion is that the “afterlife “ is the memories of us that remain.
Is that a formal part of the Jewish law, Joan? If so, where is it to be found?
I wonder how many spouses have discussed the aftermath of when one of them passes unexpectedly. My wife and I have been married for 39 years, but I would never want her to live in misery if I were to die before her. If she meets someone else that she cares about and falls in love with, I would want her to be happy. It seems selfish to want anything else.
I agree, Pete. I wonder if there is any research on the subject. Given that many people find the discussion of death uncomfortable, it might be that they avoid the conversation. Thank you for raising the issue.
“I was the best rememberer of my wife. I knew her and I had celebrated her in all her forms and all her nature, and I had loved her deeply. And I had realized that if I had killed myself then, in a way, I’d be killing her, too.”
This spoke to me. The truth in that thought rings deep and true.
Yes, Barnes put it just right, Tamara. His speech reflects some of the same talent he displays as a writer. Thank you.
here’s to Julian, embracing life. I’ve told my daughters and grandies my stories and written my story in a collage style book for them to keep and peruse at their leisure. I think hearing the stories from me and being able to ask me questions is probably helpful because they don’t have to guess.
Less guessing, for sure, Beth. I have also found that over time I have more questions of my parents, things I’d never considered before. Age closes some doors, but opens up other questions, I think. Thanks, Beth.
yes, that is exactly what happened to me, and why I really want to share my stories and answer questions. you’re right though, they will discover questions they never thought of later in life, but at least they’ll have a good base to go on .
A good base for sure, Beth. Thank you.
Never wanting to be forgotten…oh my, yes. The “why” behind honoring and lifting up those we’ve lost and the why behind writing about our lives for the next generation…or more. Following Julian Barnes’ example – and yours, Dr. Stein…”keep photos and movies, enjoy mentioning the departed with those we know, and share our memories.” Yes, yes. And I love your additional reminder that it’s a-okay to laugh at us/about us when we’re gone. Thank you for the gift of this introduction this morning! 💝
You are welcome, Vicki. There is more to his interview with Terry Gross, and you might enjoy it. He doesn’t shy away from talking about death and it’s place in his thought. He is also witty. Barnes has written over two dozen books. Your comments are always worthwhile.
Thank you for the introduction! ❤️
My pleasure, Vicki!
I’m so glad that he didn’t end his life and was able to keep her memory alive through his writings. How amazing that he’s able to begin a new life of two at eighty years!
Yes, he is a serious and thoughtful man, and my favorite living novelist. You might enjoy his work. Thank you, Rosaliene.
I have never experienced that kind of grief, but it has to be devastating. What he said about the reason for not killing himself is profound, and it’s definitely good to keep that in mind. It’s worth writing down in a journal.
Your post reminded me of the movie The Notebook. The movie tells the story of Noah and Allie, whose passionate young love is torn apart by class differences and war. Years later, they find their way back to each other. The whole story is framed by their old age, as Noah reads their shared love story to Allie, who suffers from dementia, showing that true love endures even as memory fades. The story ends when Allie regains a moment of clarity, remembers Noah, and they peacefully die together in the same bed.
That movie was tough to watch, but if my wife dies of old age, my hope is that I can die next to her. But, your post provides hope that if that doesn’t happen for whatever reason, staying alive to celebrate her is a life worth living. Thank you for this powerful, and hopeful, post.
You are welcome, Edward. Indeed, your comment is also powerful. In the domain of death, we don’t get a great many choices, but your own attitude toward it is similar to my own. Thank you, too, for the recommendation of “The Notebook.”
In my experience of doing therapy, some people cannot get past their own misery to consider the lives of those who care about them and the misery a suicide sometimes brings to loved ones. Now that some countries and some states have given people the right to end their lives, we will see what kind of commentary comes out of this legislation.
Regarding the Jewish belief in an after life….Joan is correct that Judaism emphasizes living an ethical and meaningful life in the present. We honor the deceased through memorials, prayers, good deeds, charity, and giving their name to descendants. However, there is evidence of the belief in some type of afterlife as this is discussed in the Talmud, Kabalah, Chassidus, and gleaned from the Prophets and other Writings. Judaism believes in the immortality of the soul. There are various interpretations on what the “After Life” actual entails. Traditional Judaism does believe in some sort of future resurrection but what this actually means has evolved over time and subject to debate. There is also the concept of Olam HaBa–The World to Come–a future physical realm that exists in Messianic times. Though concepts and beliefs vary, Judaism treasures life in the here and now and encourages good deeds, finding one’s purpose, and mending our broken world–our actions here can influence whatever comes next and what we leave behind. L’Chaim! (To Life!)
Thank you for a very helpful synopsis of the Jewish approach to this life and a possible afterlife, Evelyn. Much here that I didn’t know. I am grateful.