One of my favorite movies is Love Actually, a Christmasy type movie that is also a beautiful reflection on the post 9/11 world. The movie points out, via a Hugh Grant voice-over, that on 9/11, the last messages were of love. “I want you to know I love you so much.” Those were peoples’ last words. Those were the words people picked up their phones to say when time was running out for them.
Over the last couple of days, I have watched as the sudden and tragic death of Trey Pennington has begun to dissolve into nothing but another polarizing issue in the online world. Amongst all of the questions that his family and friends are asking, amongst all of the grief that his loved ones are experiencing and will experience, the online world is missing the last and most important lesson Trey left. His last tweet, which I’m sure many have seen, was not of anger or anguish or hate or discontent. His last words in this online world – his last tweet – was of love.
As people deride each other for various reasons this week, I can only feel like I’m watching people slam their heads into brick walls. This week, more than any other week, is a time for patience, understanding, gentleness, kindness, and love. And yet, over the course of 12 hours, 2 exchanges I’ve seen have involved the word “hate” and a condemnation that one person is a waste of life.
I know there are people out there who are trying to gain social capital because of Trey Penningtons death, and that is so disheartening. I know there are people out there who you just find disgusting. That’s human nature. But this week, right at this particular time, that’s not the lesson. The lesson is that the message you’re sending out could be your last one to that person. It could be your last, period. And what are you leaving? Petty retorts, the cause of which no one will know or remember? Messages about how much you hate a person? Messages about how some people are so insensitive they deserve to die? Really?
Where are your hearts, my friends? Where are your heads? What must happen before you realize that you are what you say, and you only get one shot to leave a legacy to be proud of?
Can we not recoil our venomous tongues for the next five days at least? Can we not reach out with hands instead of claws? Just for a few days? What you say matters. It carries weight. It flies away from you and lands you know not where. Make it a risk-free journey. Just for the next few days.
Please.
Image by Adrian van Leen. http://www.sxc.hu/profile/TALUDA
I might mix a little grace in there as well.
Thanks for this, Margie. This is a lesson we should all remember, regardless of circumstances surrounding our lives.
Thanks Chase. Grace is indeed important and rare, sadly.
“The lesson is that the message you’re sending out could be your last one to that person.”
Even more so, it could be the last one that person is getting. Do we really want that?
Great point, but if you care about someone so little that you’d say such things I suppose that might not register.
Excellent post Margie. I’ve been feeling much the same lately–a little disheartened by the lack of simple grace and kindness. Even posted on my Facebook wall yesterday “Just be nice. ‘Nuff said.” Thanks for sharing this.
Kind of sad, isn’t it? All of this potential to make a great difference, and so many are using it for ill. Hopefully it gets better.
Margie,
stunning. beautiful. spot on. i applaud you.
Love — Josepf
Thanks so much, my friend!
As I mentioned to you in my tweet, my 25 year old niece died, 5 years ago on Sept. 10th, in her sleep. She left three children, two boys, 5 and 3, and a 10 month old girl. Obviously, at 25 with 3 children, Krystine didn’t start off well. She was married, but they struggled, moving back and forth between their two sets of parents. But Tin had such a life force, and we joked about her being the family’s social director.
After the initial shock, I was saddened by the fact the family began to fall apart. I think I may have found part of the reason: the guilt from not having shared their feelings with her. To often, there were harsh words and recriminations about why she wasn’t doing certain things, being better. But she was so GOOD, had such a beautiful heart and truly deeply loved everyone around her.
In my own life, having had a near death experience, I found the power in ‘last words’. As you mentioned, you simply never know if the words you say to someone will be the last they hear, or that you say. We sawTin at a family party the weekend before she died, and as we were leaving, I did the same thing I always doing when leaving those I love…I put my arms around her, gave her a big hug and said, “I love you.” She responded, “I love you, Auntie Laura.” That was, is, her everlasting gift to me…those words.
I didn’t know Ty Pennington, but have been fascinated by his story. I too saw his last tweet, and though I’m so very sad that he couldn’t find the strength to ask for help, he left this world with words of love. Those who are speaking words of derision and hate…who knows what life events have caused them to believe that’s appropriate. I don’t judge them…I’ll leave that for Someone Else.
Thank you for your words, Margie…may they inspire someone to speak from their heart.
Thank you so much for sharing this with me and my readers. I too always do my best to make sure I leave people on the best terms possible. I don’t like to leave angry because you just never know. I am so glad that your last exchange with your niece was so loving and wonderful. Hugs to you!
Margie, until I read your post, I was naively unaware that some people were trying to gain social capital from Trey’s death. In hindsight, I see they were.. wow… I’ve refrained from any comment simply because I have been seeing so many tweets and posts that make a ton of assumptions that perpetrate myths that are quite dangerous. That’s all I’m gonna say about that and I’ve said too much already.
Now, for something lighter. Every time I get a hair cut, I joke with my barber that this better be the best haircut ever because it may be my last. My complete thought and a really short post about that is here: http://www.dogwalkblog.com/this-is-the-last-time-im-doing-this.html
Yes, a lot of people bring their own baggage to these situations, don’t they? And it’s irresponsible and sad. And people have a right to get angry and hurt about that, too. We all need to watch what we say though, whether we are the injured party or not.
Thanks for your comment, as always, Roofroof.
If I may be a cynic, Trey knew that was going to be his last tweet so it’s kind of an unfair comparison. If I were out on my bike this morning and were hit and killed, my last tweet would be to Jeff Esposito complaining about We the People (which I blogged about today) and a tweet of this very blog post. Two things I believe strongly in, but neither telling people how much I love them.
That said, I agree with Josepf in that this is a stunning piece. We do need to be more careful with our thoughts and what we say online. It’s easy, sitting behind a computer screen, to fire something off without thinking about how it may affect the person receiving it. That is the plea I make to everyone: Use your head before hitting send.
Fair point, of course. Sadly, Trey had time to plan that out. However, that almost makes the case even more. You never know when your words will be your last, so while you can’t be OCD about it, it’s worthwhile to try not to say anything that would reflect poorly on you, non?
Thanks for your wise words, my friend.
Beautiful, sage advice, Margie. I hope people heed your wise words.
Thanks, Laura. I appreciate that.
Thanks for this, Margie. It is so very important that we make decisions about who we are in the world. I have not seen any of the hate or opportunistic activity around Trey’s passing. I don’t want to see it, but I’m sure it’s there.
When we do see this bad behavior, standing up to it is a choice and moving away from it another.
What I see happening in this online space of late is people trying to control one another with words and opinion. Even this piece, lovely as it is, is preaching to the choir. The people who need this lesson are too far gone to shift their behavior. Anyone who publicly states someone deserves to die is very broken and we’re not fixing them with a blog post or tweet.
My point, and I do have one, is we can only control OUR behavior. If that means disengaging from negative people, standing up to bullying, taking business away from someone “famous” who we lose respect for and moving it to someone lesser known, but more aligned with our values, we can do that.
Consciously, or not, we always treat others as we want to be treated. Those who have hate in their hearts won’t be healed online or shamed into good behavior. But we don’t need to stand for it, nor give them the attention they demand. Ignoring them is the best way to show our disapproval.
You are probably right, Susan. The people I am talking to will probably never read this post, or would not see themselves in it if they did read it. But I send out the words anyway, just in case they roll around in someone’s head. That is how “aha” moments are created, I believe. You plant a seed, maybe without the person realizing it, and then all of a sudden, “Bonk!”
We’ll see what happens 🙂
In the meantime, you are right – avoiding negativity is a great path to choose. But where is that path? It seems there is a pall of negativity in a good many places online these days. Well, that’s another post, I reckon.
It’s like the old adage: Never go to bed angry or without saying, “I Love You.”
Love should be on our lips at the start and finale of our days because tomorrow may never come for some.
Thank you Margie for being you.
Very well said Ty. Thank you!
Margie, I love that movie, too! And even more important, your sentiments on “last words.” Thank you for sharing and speaking from your heart. I am a better person because of this reminder.
Blessings.
oh goodness Jayne. Thank you is all I can say to that!
Beautifully said, thank you.
(I love that movie as well).
Thanks, Sherree!
Great post,Margie and I couldn’t agree more. I feel for his family, but I grieve for our community.
Well said, Martina. Well said.