Re: can there be "closure" to a tragedy?April 30 2012 at 12:47 AM
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|Chase (no login)|
Response to can there be "closure" to a tragedy?
I can't help but feel that this is directed at my recent post for use of the world "closure," and while I certainly understand the sentiment, I must agree with Wolf that not allowing yourself to move on from a death - regardless of whether it was that of a loved one or stranger - is ultimately not in your best interest.
I would never want Anissa to be forgotten. It's at the forefront of my mind to keep her legacy alive and unearth as many concrete facts about her last days as possible. And given our infatuation with celebrity and death and celebrity death, especially here in Los Angeles, I don't think Anissa's story is in jeopardy of losing its impact. If anything, as you can attest yourself, the advent of the Internet has only increased the visibility of her tragedy, more so than when it made fleeting headlines back in 1976. Each co-worker, family member, and friend about whom I tell Anissa's story is immediately familiar with at least her name and her role as Buffy.
By closure, however, I mean the resolution of a feeling that I think you'll understand better than anyone else here. It nags at me, it truly does, that Anissa's searches for love, for acceptance, for a purpose, for a meaningful relationship all ended so tragically and coldly. Not since last year when this story piqued my interest has a single day gone by in which I haven't thought of Anissa. I think of that night at Littler Lane, what I wouldn't give to know exactly what went on in the most objective, factual sense possible. I wonder what those post-F.A. years were truly like beyond the conjecture and recollection of trusted colleagues and friends. I wonder all manner of things about the mysteries of death.
Those questions, unfortunately, will never be answered. Thus, I have two choices. I can uphold my respect and sympathy for Anissa Jones and keep trying to put her story to prose while accepting that certain devastating facts and questions will never be reconciled. Or I can elect to let the abject sadness of her story envelope me to the point where I enter depression and will myself to never seek what some wisely allude to as "closure." That latter option is not where you'll find Anissa.
I respect your eloquence and intellect, NYF, I really do. You are by leaps and bounds my favorite poster here. So please let me say from my own experience that holding on to such irreconcilable sadness is a dead-end road. Death, whether it's 36 minutes, days, or years later, is a terrible inevitably that we all must accept and overcome. It does not, however, mean that those who've gone before are forgotten.