Death Done Right: Numb3rs

Death in fiction tends to go in one of two directions: the survivors never move beyond the loss or the survivors move on very, very rapidly.  

The first approach can be well-written. Monk's endless mourning of Trudy is built-in, part of the plot. Monk is affected by the loss and also by his sense of guilt as well as his inability to solve the crime. 

The finale pays off this endless mourning and its subsequent idealization of the dead person. Monk's mourning kept him from seeing the obvious, from supposing--for instance--that Trudy had a dark secret she kept from him.

Sherlock's mourning of his girlfriend from London, supposedly done in by a serial killer, sent Sherlock on a downward spiral that he eventually takes responsibility for. Her reappearance staggers him. He's glad she's alive and yet...now, his girlfriend is a evil mastermind! And, oh, well, thems the breaks. 

In both cases, the writers use the mourning quite objectively. It is part of the plot. It informs the characters. It is used effectively.

In comparison, mourning for the sake of mourning pales, especially when writers use it to gain sympathy for characters or for the writer's plotting choices. Oh, isn't it all tooo awful. My sympathy dries up, in part because people actually move on from a death in far healthier ways than the grief industry allows for. 

However, the other side to the equation can often raise eyebrows. I've never entirely bought into And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie because I don't believe that human beings are that sanguine about constant death. Somebody would try to get off the island in a makeshift raft!

In fact, sometimes death in ongoing series feels like star ships on Star Trek. Um, wasn't the space-going vehicle smashed practically to smithereens in the last episode? Wow, how did it get repaired so fast? 

One show that handles the death of an important person exactly right is Numb3rs. 

Margaret, the wife/mother of Alan, Don, and Charlie, died from cancer before  Season 1. Her illness was diagnosed, known, and lasted more than a few months. Don gave up a position in the FBI to return home to help care for her. 

The series opens approximately a year or so after her death. No one, including Alan, mopes about the house, yet all of the characters reference Margaret--without heavy pauses or shame. Charlie indicates the most regret because during his mother's illness, he "checked out" mentally, becoming overly involved in the P versus NP problem. His father assures him that his mother understood. 

Nobody has lost the ability to function. However, that doesn't mean that the mother and her influence are forgotten or no longer missed. 

My favorite episode that underscores both the maturity and lingering hurt of Margaret's loss occurs in "Running Man," Season 2. During the episode, Alan discovers that his wife continued to compose music throughout their marriage. Although she made her sons take piano lessons, she let Alan believe she gave up on her musical hobby. He wonders why she never told him. Charlie attempts to explain that his mother needed a place to go to do her own thing. 

At the end of the episode, Don returns home to find one of his mother's composition pieces on the piano. He sits down and plays the piece, very much in the way a grown man with a few lessons would play the piano. Sitting in the garage, Charlie and Alan hear the music. Charlie stops working and Alan closes his eyes as the notes wash over them. It is a reminder, a lingering sorrow that is, nonetheless, not traumatic. Despite the sorrow, it is a gift.

Excellent writing and characterizations!