I’ve had death on my mind quite a bit lately.
That’s a lie. I’ve always had death on my mind. Since I was an adolescent, I’ve always believed my life would be a short one. When both of my parents died relatively young (Dad at 47 from lung cancer, Mom at 54 from type I Diabetes) that feeling became even more prevalent.
Ironically, I never thought I’d make it past thirty-five. Now that I have, I think I’m living on borrowed time, each year a surprise. It’s okay, though. Some people aren’t cut out for this world and don’t do very well in it if they have to stick around past their welcome. But what will I leave behind when I’m gone?
A few swollen eyes? Some genuine sadness? What else? A few books bearing my name that may or may not become considered worthy of mention as the years wear on? Maybe that’s all I can hope for anyway.
I have no children to carry on my name and DNA. I may never have any. There are no foundations bearing my name and I’m not a well-known celebrity. I don’t believe in anything so people of faith won’t look at me as someone of deep, abiding belief that has gone on to a just reward. My family is small and getting smaller all the time and I have no siblings to recall funny stories about me when I was a kid. I have lived a life unseen and unnoticed and when I am gone I doubt there will be very many stories worth telling at my funeral.
That beings me to the funeral itself. What kind would I want? Truthfully, I would prefer not to have one at all. I’ve never considered them to be useful for the living and my ego isn’t over-developed enough to ensure that people cry when I’m gone. I don’t want people looking on in amazement because it looks nothing like me. It isn’t me. It is a suit I wore until whatever was inside could no longer remain there. I don’t want a holy man speaking about me because that would just be hypocritical.
But I can’t help wondering what people would say about me. Would they say I was funny or generous or talented or smart? Would people have a difficult time standing in front of an I’m sure small group of people and lying about what a wonderful person I was? I don’t know. Unlike former EFB’s dad, I’m not megalomaniacal enough to script my own funeral so that a horrible person cannot help but be mourned.
I don’t have much to leave behind, at least not at this point. Without children, I don’t have to worry about the futures of my progeny and that simplifies matters quite a bit. So, the only persons I need to worry about after I’m dead are those that mattered to me while I was alive. That brings me to my will.
I can’t help but smirk a bit as I write this because, honestly, what the hell do I have to leave anybody? My book and music collections? The comic books of my youth and more recent years? A car nobody could possibly want except for the scrap metal and spare parts opportunities? Oh, I know. My unfinished work! There’s a collector’s item. I can assure you there is no family member worthy of leaving my half of the house to. It’s going to be a very succinct will.
I suppose the same could be said of my life thus far. I won’t be presumptuous enough to make the blanket statement that I have had little to no effect on the lives of others. During my father’s funeral, a man whose life was less than exemplary and whose inability to form lasting relationships was legendary, so many people showed up that the priest apologized for not having enough room to accommodate them all.
We have no idea how many lives we touch and change while we’re here and we probably never will. Those of us that think nobody noticed them or took something they did to heart are deluded fools. So yes, there probably will be a few more people at my funeral than I think, assuming there is a funeral at all.
What’s causing such maudlin thoughts to run through my head and spill over onto this screen? I attended a funeral the other day of a man who died of cancer at the age of 49.
I never met him because he is related to former EFB’s mother and there has been a long-standing three-decade feud between she and her siblings. But from what I’ve heard, he would have been the one person in her entire family I genuinely liked. So, naturally he died before I got the chance.
Ironically, he was the one that tried for years to bring his family back together, facing constant ridicule and hostility for the effort. How ironic that his dying wish was to have them come see him one last time. Watching him breathe on his own when he shouldn’t have been able to and hearing his death rattle, lungs filled with fluid, I could tell he was a man with a strong life-force and love for life in general.
I am neither.
I hate life and I don’t much care for people and if I suddenly found out I was dying I would not have the strength to keep doing the things I did and to refuse oxygen when my time came. I would be angry about the suffering and bitter about my wasted time on Earth and would want nothing to do with anyone in my final days.
There would be no celebration of a life lived for Scribe. No packed church with weeping children and an entire town mourning my passing. Call me a fatalist if you must, but I am only being realistic. As we left the service and headed for the eating area, former EFB’s brother turned to me and said, “He’s got some really big shoes, doesn’t he?” Still choked up by the service, I nodded and looked away. If this was coming from a guy whose life could put him in those shoes, what the hell chance do I have of filling them?
Maybe that’s what my eulogy should say: “He did what he could when he thought about it, but most times he just existed.”
What else is there to say?
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9 comments:
Aaaah, death. Not a favorite topic but not one I'm afraid of either.
I believe that death in this life leads to something more. Something infinitely better, so I don't fear death. Maybe that's why I'm generally an optimistic person.
I believe in the "It's a Wonderful Life" syndrome ~ in that we touch so many other lives that we can't possibly know whom and in what ways we've affected them. Sure, I've wondered what life on earth will be like without me - what if I die young and don't get to see my kids grow up? What kind of people will they be?
Fact is, if there's nothing beyond this present reality than it doesn't really matter what happens after you die or if you leave earth a better place than when you found it.
But I know that there is more to life than on this earth and physical, bodily death is just the beginning. When I need reassurance I read 1 Corinthians 15 and I feel better.
You've been to funerals before the one you talk about in the post. What's missing from the deceased? The body is lying in the casket but the essence of the individual, the soul is gone. Where does it go? To those who say the soul is nonexistent and that when we die that's it I say phaw. You're deceiving yourself.
Aaaah, these are philosophical questions the like of which have been argued for millennia and will continue to be. None of which will be answered in this space, to be sure.
I always picture Spock and Bones discussing it as referenced many times in a popular 1960's television series.
Part of the problem, I think, is that you worry too much about death because of your uncertainty.
What I think you need, my friend, is to find the deeper meaning to your life, one that will allow you to fill the untapped potential trapped within the recesses of your soul. I know where you can begin to find the inner peace you so desparately are looking for and the one from whom you can look for the answers. Aye but you have scoffed at the notion before and that, I think, is the saddest part of all.
It really doesn't matter how much time you have left, be it 10 years or 60, but what you do with the time you have. (Gandalf phrased it better in LOTR, speaking to Frodo in the caves of Moria)
Long winded I know, but you asked so deal with it.
My personal view is that funerals are for the living, so it's up to those i leave behind how they want to send me off. My family know my wishes and my take on the world etc, but I've told them to do whatever works for them. If they want to talk with some guy in a funny collar to help them deal with it, i reckon they should do so.
BUT, i would hope they'd be honest about it, and not get people to 'pray for my soul' or whatever it is they do when people mumble to themselves in churches.
"Fact is, if there's nothing beyond this present reality than it doesn't really matter what happens after you die or if you leave earth a better place than when you found it."
Oh great unclean one, you seem to associate not believing in gods as the same being a nihilist. It's not.
On the contrary, i reckon those of us who think we only get one go, and that this earth is all there is, are if anything MORE likely to care about our legacy and about leaving the world a better place. I know i am.
After all, I've never heard a rationalist say 'who cares about the environment, god gave us this world to exploit and this is only temporary etc'
Wow. Why so depressed? I know, a funeral for one so young is quite a downer. Makes one think of one's own mortality.
For one, no one knows when their number is up. If we did, we'd all live our lives differently. Life should be lived one day at a time. To the fullest one can possibly do so. When today is over, we don't get it back.
But I think your gripe is deeper. I think your gripe is with YOUR life in itself. You are unhappy with it in general. You are feeling you haven't lived, haven't touched anyone deeply, haven't made a difference. Hence the "what do I leave behind?" questions.
Scribey, you've touched so many here on Blogger, I can only imagine how many you touch in your every day dealings with people. You've definitely pulled me out of a funk or three. I know how much you mean to others from Michigan, don't need to mention names.
Why question what can't be changed? And, if it can, why not change it to suit you?
So you're over 35...sheesh, I'm the same age as that poor man who died from cancer. It was his time. When is mine? When is yours? Moot point. Today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow. I intend to make the most of each day.
What I leave behind won't always measured physically. Ol' Madge hopes to make many people laugh.
I think you can hold your head up, you're a good person, Scribey, and if sometime we get a chance to meet in person, I'm sure I won't be disappointed.
Jeez, I think I'm longer-winded than the Green One.
Life is a gift, it doesn't matter who you think it's from, or where you think you're going afterwards. Enjoy it. One day at a time. There's no set rules for what you leave behind.
HUGZ!
My own belief on death is this: we all die. Is it depressing? Is it sad? I'm not sure. I think it just depends. There's a story with death, and it depends on how the story is as to how it effects me. Not so much that the person is no longer living in body. People will always come and go. Always. In 50 years will anyone remember that you or I existed... probably not, but then, what would we care? We'd still be dead.
I didn't want to read comments before commenting myself... but I did anyway... I can't help but agree with Ol' Madge. Dwelling on death here makes me think that you're unhappy with your life, which, tends to be a theme with you.
I get it. I really do. There are people out there who do FANTASTIC things. Fantastic things like make movies or make their own music or save lives or own businesses that most people can't live without. For the rest of us though, our fantastic things come in small doses and may touch few. But it doesn't mean they are any less significant.
You wrote a book. You wrote a book and it is published. People can purchase your work. Whether I can come to your funeral or not or what I will think of you when you pass won't matter. You're an inspiration to me now. Because you did it. It's not even your full time job, and you did it. Beyond that, you make me see humor in otherwise humorless things. You encourage me to think outside my own box, strive for understanding, and belittle those who are dumber any chance I get.
Kidding. ;)
My point is always this: You said it yourself. There is NOTHING holding you back. It's just you. You have no kids. No ailing relatives you have to care for. Former EFB has a job so it's not like you're completely supporting her. No one depends on you to live, which may seem depressing at first, but think of how liberating that could be. From over on this side of the fence... you have no idea.
Only you can make your life worth leaving behind. Does that make sense?
Other than that, I'll offer you hugs and a womb should you ever want something to care for. ;) Lord knows if I have something that works well, I should put it to good use! LOL I love you Scribe and I, for one, am glad you're here.
The last thing you will ever do in your life is die. Make sure you do all the things you want to do before then because this life is your last chance.
Funerals suck, I hate them. I just went to one the other day. Well, it was a wake which I find very uncomfortable. It has a way of sticking with you for days like a good movie, its just depressing. You will die a sucessful good man, you just don't know it yet because you have many more years to go before it's your time. Write another book dammit.
Just received your note via the book of face. A very emotionally rich post, asking a very profound question: what's a life, any life, worth?
My own thoughts: it can't, and doesn't need to be measured. What you planning on doing with your life-measuring tokens at the end, cashing them in for a large stuffed toy?
Yes, the narcissistic part will say "But what will people think of me when I'm dead? Will they think of, or have feelings about me at all?" The response ought be the same as as that if you substitute 'do' for 'will' and 'living' for 'dead' - which is...if you honestly approve of yourself, it doesn't bloody matter. The people who are worthy of your emotion will honour you for you. Warts and all.
I strongly disagree about funerals - they are very much for the living and a very useful thing. They're often depressing, trite, and sometimes downright offensive to people that knew the individual in question. But for people who haven't accepted the person's death, it helps them to. For those that have, it gives them a sense of closure and the possibility of moving on from that. Mourning is important. I'm no good at it, I'd rather bury the feeling, but sitting with it helps and that's what funerals can give people: persmission to really feel their emotions in public.
Lastly, I dispute the idea that you hate life, for one simple fact: you create. You work with yourself and the universe to string together patterns out of words and language to make an external imprint of what's inside of you. I'm not saying that you and life don't necessarily have tiffs on a regular basis. What I'm saying is that if you truly hated life, you wouldn't bother, but you do. You wouldn't be there for or with people at any point in time, but you are. That's what I think anyway.
have met met?
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