logo-image

Peter

Shackelford Funeral Directors • August 16, 2014

The world, or at least the world as we know it, is reeling from the death of a beloved actor and comedian, one who managed, at one point or another, to touch a nerve in the souls of most everyone.  Robin Williams left behind a body of work that not only encapsulated life but often clarified it for those of us fortunate enough to witness his unique combination of madness and genius.

Unfortunately, he was like so many who suffer silently, putting on a face for the world while hiding the misery of a troubled mind.  Whether or not he succumbed to the depression that haunted him, whether or not he took his own life, does not diminish the affect he had upon those who felt they knew him through his work.  Sadly, he could not share in the joy with which he blessed so many of us.

His death has cast a glaring light on the depression that seems so prevalent in our society.  The topic dominates every news anchor’s commentary, it’s plastered across the web, it’s a part of every conversation, if not in word then in thought.  The “professionals” want to tell us how to recognize it, how to deal with it, what to do if it afflicts someone we love, but the sad truth is the severity of depression often goes unrecognized until it is too late and a life is lost.  Even if that life does not physically end, there is no quality to it, no joy in the living.  And in a matter of days, when everyone has adjusted to the shocking news and something else has moved it from the headlines, we will forget.

Everyone is different and there is no definitive answer for what will trigger depression or how it should be treated.  We must be aware.  We must listen to the people we love, to the people we come in contact with on a daily basis, our friends, our co-workers.  We cannot hear if we do not listen; we cannot see if we do not look.  And when we believe there is a problem, we must encourage and support, we must offer to help, understanding that we open ourselves up to the darkness of someone else’s life when we do so.  But we must also understand that we cannot “fix” anyone.  We cannot make them seek help or lean on us when the darkness becomes too great to sustain life.  Those who are suffering must want that suffering to end and sometimes they mistakenly believe that death is the only possible solution.

In the movie “Hook”, as Peter faces Captain Hook, preparing for battle, Hook exclaims, “Prepare to die, Peter Pan!”  And Peter’s reply?  “To die would be a grand adventure!”  However, in the last scene, Robin Williams as the now grown-up Peter Pan, stands before Maggie Smith, the aged and grandmotherly Wendy.  His children have been rescued from the clutches of Captain Hook, as has he from the clutches of the world, and Wendy observes, “So, your adventures are over,” to which Peter replies, “Oh, no.  To live, to live would be an awfully big adventure.”  Perhaps both life and death are grand adventures, each to be experienced in their own time, in their own way.  But to hasten the end of one to bring about the beginning of the other only leaves grief and guilt for those who remain.

 

The post Peter appeared first on Shackelford Funeral Directors | Blog.

By Lisa Thomas February 20, 2025
Although every arrangement conference is different, any that involve planning some type of service share a few things in common, such as deciding who will speak, and when and where the service will be held. And at some point in all this planning, the funeral director will ask “Have you thought about music?”
By Lisa Thomas February 13, 2025
It was the spring of 1991 when I was first required to walk through the doors of Henderson Office Supply on Main Street in Henderson, Tennessee. The business was owned by the Casey family—the same Casey family who owned Casey Funeral Home—the same Casey family from whom we had just purchased both.
By Lisa Thomas February 6, 2025
It was December 14, 1799, and George Washington, first president of the United States, lay on his deathbed, the result of male obstinance, a sudden change in the weather, a desire to be prompt which led to dinner in soggy clothes, and medical practices of the day that were useless in the face of whatever illness was attacking his body. Actually, just useless in general.
By Lisa Thomas January 30, 2025
Pia Farrenkopf was a loner, a smart, driven woman of German descent who would be gone for weeks at a time, if not for work, then for the sheer pleasure of exploring the world. Her family grew to expect unanswered phone calls and random postcards from faraway places.
By Lisa Thomas January 23, 2025
Whenever a death occurs there’s always a cleaning out that follows. It may be a house or apartment, a hospital or nursing home room—maybe even just a closet and a drawer—but somewhere the items that represent that person’s life are tucked safely away, waiting for the day when they will pass to the next generation . . . or Goodwill, whichever is deemed appropriate.
By Lisa Thomas January 15, 2025
I find myself sitting in Panera, eating an Apple Chicken Salad and reading “The 7 ½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle”, a Christmas present from my daughter and her family. Only this Panera is located in Vanderbilt Medical Center. Soon I will return to the darkness of Room 7 in the ICU and wait.
By Lisa Thomas January 9, 2025
We were just wrapping up a celebratory family meal (please don’t ask which one; I haven’t the foggiest notion, given the time of year and the prevalence of celebratory meals), when my 15-year-old grandson Wilson stretched his lanky frame in the manner that indicates a satisfaction with the food and a fullness from overindulging, and asked “Mona, (that’s what all the grandchildren call me . . . because my first name is Lisa . . . so, Mona Lisa . . .) “when do I get a copy of the Thomas Cookbook?”
By Lisa Thomas December 27, 2024
As I sit writing this, it is Christmas night—that time when the world grows still and quiet as the celebrations of the day fade into memories.
By Lisa Thomas December 18, 2024
‘Tis the season to be jolly . . . unless it isn’t. Unless it isn’t because Grief has recently come to call and seems quite content to stay, at least for the foreseeable future.
By Lisa Thomas December 12, 2024
I made a pretty big mistake this year. Actually, truth be known, I made a lot of mistakes this year. But this particular one was a doozie.
More Posts
Share by: