On lying, part 8. Wife's handgun, redux

A few weeks ago, when Boyfriend 4 died, Wife was talking on the phone with Estelle, his widow. This phone call was the very day he died -- he was (so to speak) not yet cold -- and Wife asked Estelle about her handgun. (I don't remember if I told you that when I took Wife's handgun away for safekeeping, B4 and I agreed to tell her that he had it.) That she should choose such a time to press such a point is ghastly by itself, of course. But what made it worse for Estelle is that she knew she didn't have it. She wrote to me as follows:

I know that you and B4 had spoken of concern for your wife and having a handgun in the home where your boys are. And I understand that concern, having daughters of my own.

B4 told me of you removing the gun from the home and giving it to another friend- and saying it was with him. He understands the reasons behind that - and I know he would have kept the gun for her if only he had been able to get it and hold it.

She asked me about her .38 last night- I tapdanced around the subject, telling her that I had not sorted through his guns yet(true)and that as soon as I located it and his father and I finished discussing things that if it WAS in his things I would contact her about it.

You and I know that B4 did not have this firearm. It is my suggestion that you go to her and tell her that he did not have it when he died. As to returning it to her- that is going to be up to you and at your discretion.

B4 told me how troubled he was over this deception. He fretted over being asked for the gun someday and having to decide whether or not to tell her the truth. He loved your wife VERY much- and your boys- and you. To have to fib to someone he loved so much- even for their own good- bothered him.
Please- in memory of your good friend- tell your wife that he did not have the gun in his possession and I do not have it in mine.

I wish you all no ill and all the best-

Estelle

So, a couple of days later, I did just that. I told that it has been here at the house all along, squirrelled away in the garage somewhere (which it isn't, but good luck proving THAT wrong!).

The conversation did not go very well. She was angry that B4 had lied to her; I have to admit that I was fairly callous about this, and just said, "Fine. Call him up to yell at him about it." She repeated many of her usual remarks about how it's her property and she doesn't plan to shoot me with it, etc etc etc. No surprise there, as she always says the same thing. Then she said something else, however: that up until "about a year ago," she accepted implicitly that anything I told her was the truth, and that this had allowed me to get really self-righteous about condeming all the lies she has told to me; but now she has "realized that's not at all true." And she more or less asked me what I had to say for myself about that.

I replied by telling her that she was absolutizing: that there is a lot of ground between "Everything Hosea says is true" and "Everything Hosea says is false." And I pointed out that I have never been a Kantian in ethics. Kant famously said once that the moral obligation to tell the truth was so absolute that if a crazy man comes to your door looking to murder Mr. Smith, and you know where Mr. Smith is, you are not morally permitted to lie to the crazy man about his location. (Somehow I don't think Kant can have possibly understood what he was saying when he said this; and in any event, after some of the catastrophes of the twentieth century that example looks very different.) As I say, I denied to her that I was ever that kind of a Kantian in ethics. I contrasted Plato's more nuanced approach in Book 1 of the Republic, where someone argues that justice means giving people what you owe them, and Socrates poses this example: Suppose a friend of yours deposits his weapons with you to keep for him; and then one day he goes crazy, and (while crazy) he asks for them back. Does anyone believe that justice requires you give them back to him while he is out of his mind? Because that is surely "paying back what you owe." But everyone clearly agrees that the answer is No, you don't give them back while he is out of his mind, so justice must be something else. By the same token, I said, I have to exercise prudence in what I say when I think there is some kind of clear and present danger. Wife scoffed at the suggestion that she could ever pose a clear and present danger to anybody, and I just said that we see it differently.

Of course, there is more to the story. In fact, the risk of danger to life and limb is not the only reason for me to mislead her these days. There is also my relationship with D, not to put too fine a point on it. Wife recently characterized that relationship with remarkable acuity. She started by repeating her theory that maybe this is all a mid-life crisis, but then focussed in to suggest that all along I hadn't been getting what I wanted out of the marriage, and that I had resigned myself to not getting it; but then along came D and I realized it is possible for me to get all those things after all, and so I became angry at having wasted so many years. On the other hand, I'm not sure if she realizes yet that we meet each other throughout the year, and that it is a physical relationship as well as an emotional one. And of course I am in no hurry to tell her.

I discussed this all far better (at a theoretical level) in my last installment ["On lying, part 7"]. But I thought the update about this latest conversation might be relevant too.

R.I.P. Boyfriend 4

Boyfriend 4 died this evening, Thursday, at 6:27 pm Central Daylight Time. That's from the e-mail that Estelle, his recent wife, sent out from his e-mail account. I must admit it is a little eerie getting mail that announces itself as being from Boyfriend 4 to say that he has died, but of course it makes sense that she did so. That's where he stored the mailing list of people to whom he was sending regular medical updates, and naturally that's the list of people she would want to notify. Still, it looks a little strange .... 

 

Estelle called Wednesday night to tell Wife that Boyfriend 4 was in the hospital and completely non-responsive, and to ask Wife if she knew what Boyfriend 4's wishes would be in that case. She does and did -- "No heroic measures" -- but the call left her really sad and weepy, fearing that Boyfriend 4 wouldn't regain consciousness before dying. At another point in the conversation, Estelle talked about how they had recently had to leave their home because of flooding, and were hanging out in a friend's living room; she said that Boyfriend 4 told her at that point that it was OK because wherever she and the girls were, that was "home" for him. Estelle added that she had never known Boyfriend 4 to lie to her, and so she found this very touching. Wife and I both reflected that Boyfriend 4 had lied to us any number of times, but never about that kind of thing. 

Apparently Estelle has concluded that Boyfriend 4 was the one Perfect Man for her -- far better than any of her other relationships (including the fellow who left her with two daughters). And while I smile inwardly just a tiny bit at the thought of Boyfriend 4 as the Perfect Man, I think it is immeasurably sweet that he was such a shining spot in her life, that he was able to be so fundamentally good for her. Surely that's one of the best kinds of legacy to leave behind. 

And really, you know, this isn’t a tragedy for Boyfriend 4. It's sad for us, of course, because we are his friends and we won't see him again. But for Boyfriend 4? He lived his life largely the way he wanted to live it. He had a last great adventure right at the end (marrying Estelle and moving to her state). He held his head up high through all the troubles of his last couple of years (preserving the cocky, sarcastic attitude all the while). And as for death itself, ... well, I don't think that's a tragedy for him either. I guess this is because, much as I like Homer, I think Homer got it wrong when he makes the shade of Achilles say (Odyssey, Book 11), “rather would I live on the earth as the hireling of another, with a landless master who had no livelihood, than be king of all the dead that are departed.” My own opinion, not that it counts for much, is that there are two possibilities. One is that death is like nothing more than a dreamless sleep, which is certainly nothing to fear. The other is that, as Albus Dumbledore says, “To the well prepared mind, death is but the next great adventure." Of course it is hard to argue for anything as purely speculative as this. But I guess I would say that if I were to die – and then find that I were still conscious after all! – that mere fact alone would be so remarkable to me, and so exciting, that whatever came next could not help but be an adventure, since I would be eager to find out everything I could about this new and totally-unexpected existence. Either way, I cannot see death as an enemy, nor even as the worst possible thing. And so I fundamentally cannot see the mere fact of dying as ipso facto tragic. I tried to suggest this point of view to Wife Wednesday night, but I don’t think I persuaded her. Estelle called again early Thursday morning, saying there was very little chance Boyfriend 4 would make it. I later found an e-mail from her (sent a couple hours before this phone call) in which she explained the situation:

This is Estelle for Boyfriend 4. Unfortunately the news I have is not good. Boyfriend 4 started having abdominal pain Monday night, and of course- being as stubborn as he is- he would not go to the hospital. Tuesday the pain eased slightly- then Wednesday he woke up- and said he took a morphine tablet (just ONE he kept telling me)and became quickly lethargic. I called an ambulance after arguing with him about it. He has what the surgeon called "free air" air that has gotten into the abdomen through a rupture or hole somewhere in the abdomen. He said sometimes they heal themselves- sometimes they don't. But in the condition he was in last night- surgery was not AT THIS TIME a viable option. IF his condition improves- and IF the problem does not resolve itself- then he may be able to consider the surgery. On the plus side- he held his own through the night- he is not on a respirator or ventilator. His blood pressure is low, but he IS holding his own at this moment. If any of you pray- he needs those prayers NOW.

By the time she called, she had no more confidence in his ability to hold his own. Wife was up (having slept fitfully), the boys were having breakfast, and I was shaving. Apparently Boyfriend 4 had come around to something vaguely approximating consciousness, and Estelle was holding the phone up to his ear. Wife spoke very softly into the phone, choking on noiseless sobs, telling Boyfriend 4 that she loved him and that she would meet him "on the other side." She then waved the boys up to the phone "to say goodbye." Son 1 curtly said, "Bye Cifu" and gave the phone back to her. ("Cifu" was what Son 1 often called Boyfriend 4 ... apparently it is a title one uses to address one's martial arts instructor in a dojo. Boyfriend 4 had studied martial arts for many years, and tried to teach the boys a bit during the time he stayed with us.) Son 2 tentatively whispered "I hope you get better," and scurried back to the table. Wife didn't offer the phone to me, and I didn't try to take it away from her. I have my doubts about how conscious he was likely to be, and the drama of that kind of scene would have been entirely out of keeping with the whole tenor of our friendship. Wife whispered on the phone some more, probably to Estelle rather than to Boyfriend 4, and then hung up and went back to bed. 

As I drove the boys to school, I explained some of the things that I say immediately above: that by my lights these developments aren’t bad for Boyfriend 4, but only for us. And Son 1 asked, "What really does come after death?" I explained that I don't know; Son 2 chimed in that we couldn't know because nobody had ever come back to tell us. Haven't they? I suggested that some people say they have talked to ghosts, but then other people deny that the testimony of ghosts has any validity. So in the end we don't really know. But we chatted about it all the rest of the way to school. 

Then I had no further news for the rest of the day, and I really didn't have time to check my home account again. I called Wife when Son 2 was done with his after-school commitments, to say we were on our way home and did she want me to pick up Son 1 from athletics practice while I was en route? She said yes, and added that she had gotten the news from Estelle that Boyfriend 4 had died. After I collected Son 1, as we were on our way home, I let both boys know. They were quiet and subdued, but no more than that. And then the evening was fairly normal. The banter over dinner was silly (though Wife looked dead tired and excused herself early to go lie down), Son 1 had homework to finish, Son 2 played a little outside and then came in and helped me with the Sudoku puzzle in today's paper. They had some ice cream and went to bed. And only then did I get a chance to check my home e-mail again, and found the news from Estelle:

It is with deepest grief that I tell you of the death of our beloved friend [Boyfriend 4], He passed this evening at 6:27 CT I loved him very much and he made my life a joyous experience.

Estelle

And you know, ... I can't help thinking that's just the kind of valediction anybody would want, ... the best kind there is. Of course it is sad for us to be deprived of a friend that we love; but -- given that we all have to go sometime -- isn't it a sign that you did something right in life if you were able to make someone else's life a joyous experience? Or to say it another way: death often wears the aspect of defeat; but surely, if you can make your exit like that, it is a kind of victory after all. And then, after all, it may not be the end. And we can always hope.