The Healings Questionnaire, No. 1: Rob Harvilla

A Q&A about death and God: “I’m glad you’re asking people this but I wish you hadn’t asked me specifically.”

Author, podcaster, and family man Rob Harvilla, seen here eyeing some flapjacks to throw down his pancake chute.

Alright, so, as we have discussed: One thing that happened to me with increasing frequency following my cancer diagnosis and eventual remission, is that friends and even strangers asked me the kinds of questions we’re all usually too polite or apprehensive to ask one another. For some reason, the fact that I had cancer made it seem OK to ask me if I believed in God, if I’d learned anything about what happens when we die, etc. 

And actually, it was OK. For one thing, I found I was grateful for the opportunity to try to articulate my answers. And second, it led to the following realizations: 1. You shouldn’t have to almost die to contemplate these things; 2. It’s wild that we never talk about this stuff with one another, given how universal it is; and 3. Writing my answers down helped me understand my own perspectives, and maybe sharing them helps others to do the same. The logical next step? Ask more people! 

And so here we arrive at the inaugural installment of what will be an ongoing series. Our first contestant is writer, podcaster, and self-proclaimed “Gawky Ohioan” Rob Harvilla. Harvilla is the author of the recently released 60 Songs that Explain the ‘90s (which you should buy here), a lovely book based on his wildly successful podcast of the same name. He’s a staff writer at The Ringer, a husband, a father of three rad kids, and one of my best friends for over twenty years, going all the way back to our days as fledgling Bay Area music critics. Me and Rob have had many adventures together, but of particular relevance here is the time he had to assemble a roomful of our coworkers and inform them all that I had just been diagnosed with testicular cancer, a task I’m sure he handled with equal parts grace and gawkiness. 

Here, and for the first time I suspect, Harvilla shares his thoughts on death and God. Thanks, Rob, for this and everything else.  

What happens when we die? 

Oof. I grew up Catholic, with the attendant ideas of Absolute Heaven (sounds suspiciously idyllic and also, per the Talking Heads song, kinda boring) and Absolute Hell (sounds cruel and wildly disproportionate). And while my faith in that specific idea has wavered, I do believe there is Something, some accounting, some way to measure how hard you tried to be a Good Person (or not). I start capitalizing random words when I get nervous. This question makes me nervous. I am tempted to say those who fall short or just generally act like dickheads are given some opportunity to Go Back and Get It Right (see, I’m still nervous), but that’s basically reincarnation, which is not so much a Catholic thing. I’m glad you’re asking people this but I wish you hadn’t asked me specifically. 

On a scale of 1-10, with 10 being terrified and 1 being it’s never crossed your mind, how afraid are you of dying? Explain.  

It’s weird to say I’m a 3 or a 4, but it’s the truth. I don’t think about it much. I should think about it more often. We have a 3-year-old daughter now, and when I start doing the math—when she’s THIS age, I’ll be THAT age—that’s when it starts crossing my mind / terrifying me, and so then I just stop doing the math. For my wife and I, watching our parents deal with various health struggles and various tribulations—that’s the hardest, the most alarming, the most sobering, the most Yeah Now This Is Legitimately Terrifying part. Put me down for 5 or 6 actually.  

What’s the closest you’ve come to death? What did you learn, if anything? 

I’ve been outrageously fortunate. I know that. My parents are still around for me to worry about: That alone is outrageously fortunate. I’ve had a couple minor health scares, but most of my closest friends—the guy who runs this newsletter, for example—put my woes to shame. For me to even tapdance around this question any further feels somehow disrespectful. I’m enormously lucky, and I know it, and yet somehow I know that I don’t really know the half of it.  

Do you believe in God? Explain. 

I do. I believe in some higher power, some organizing principle, some force beyond my comprehension. It stresses me out when I start trying to fill in the details, so I mostly don’t. My lapsed Catholicism shames me a little—my parents have had their own spiritual journey, but my dad plays drums in the church band, and my mom reads and prays and studies and radiates such kindness that I realize I should be way less glib and noncommittal about this. “Lapsed Catholic” does not mean “not Catholic anymore” but it’s time to fill this picture back in a little.

Do you have a spiritual practice? If so, what is it? If not, why not? 

We don’t. We could blame that on our lapsed Catholicism, and the political dimension driving a lot of that, and the aggressiveness of our COVID precautions keeping us out of church etc. etc. etc., but the fact is that I am not raising my kids the way my parents raised me, not really, and that—surprise—makes me ashamed, or at least a little more aggressively curious about what exactly I am teaching my kids instead. If absolutely nothing else, we need to allow for more reflection, more conversation, more open-mindedness, more acknowledgement that there is more to life than what is directly in front of us. I owe myself that, and my kids that, and not in that order.

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Healings is written by Garrett Kamps and edited by Tommy Craggs. Ayana H. Muwwakkil provides art direction.

Healings is about illness, recovery, spirituality, and related topics, and began in the summer of 2023 as a chronicle of Garrett’s battle with cancer. We make no guarantees that it will hold together, thematically speaking, now or ever.

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