The Club

“The first rule of Fight Club is: You do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: You do not talk about Fight Club. Third rule of Fight Club: someone yells stop, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over. Fourth rule: only two guys to a fight” ~ Tyler Durden, Fight Club

That is a club for the cool kids right there, or anyone who just wants to pummel one another just for the fun of it and burn some calories and angst at the same time. Fight Club is a club that you didn’t even have to try out for, just show up and get ready to square up and throw hands, and be willing to take a beating, YOU are in! It sounds ridiculous that someone would choose to be part of a club such as this, it’s a little far-fetched. What about something a little more tame and less bloody, a running club, or maybe a book club? Those are clubs’ people willingly want to participate in.

What about the club you don’t want to join; the one that was forced upon you, like the telemarketer calling your home, forcing their way into your life during supper time, trying to sell you something you absolutely don’t want and the sales pitch goes something like this: “I’m offering a lifetime membership to this club that you can use whenever and wherever you are, it’s available at the most awkward moments, always willing to lend a hand to trip you up through the day, make you sad, mad, frustrated and every emotion you can possibly think of at your beck and call and not to mention there are no annual fees and we’re also offering 6 months of Premium Spotify so you can accompany this membership with really sad songs with no advertising breaks!” I don’t want to be part of THIS club! THIS CLUB SUCKS!! Unfortunately, you can’t say no to this intrusion, and you can’t say no to life.

Once you lose someone close to you, you step into this club, and no one understands this club until they’ve been informally initiated. I cringe sometimes when I think of how I misspoke in situations regarding someone who recently lost a loved one. My intentions were truly pure, and my desire was to try and extend some type of support, however I didn’t realize how glib my words were UNTIL my dad died and the very well-intentioned individuals in my life offered similar platitudes that fell abundantly short.

When you’re in that raw grief, most words fall short. The ridiculous comments like, “it is for the best”, “he’s at peace now”, “God has another angel”, BLAH BLAH BLAH!!! It doesn’t matter who is trying to sympathize with you, or how well intentioned they are, unless they’ve experienced personal loss, you’re not allowed in the club. Those would-be supportive people would serve the grieving best by simply being quiet and just offering a hug, or a meal, or a simple text that says, “I’m here for you”.

Sadly, most people will eventually be a part of this club, and when that happens the new members will understand why the alumni weren’t wanting them to drop comment cards in the invisible comment card box, to offer solutions on something they knew nothing about. New members will get an internal notification that they are now in the club. Then you’ll make a secret handshake with the new members, and all will vow to be part of the welcoming committee and promise to be mentors to those who aren’t in the club yet, so that when grief makes its first appearance it feels welcome.