Have been thinking a lot about writing this, but have taken several days to reflect on what it is I want to really say, and how it is to be taken. And hopefully this will make some things easier for me to understand in the process.
Last week was a very hard week to get through. And made me think about life in general, and death specifically. Now death is nothing new to me, lets face it, I work in a job where facing death is a daily thing. People are born, they live, they die, it is the natural progression of life. Has been happening for thousands of years, and hopefully will continue for thousands more. But have we become immune to death that we don't think about how it affects others? Do we just don't care? Or are we scared of what there is to follow that we just block it out from our minds; out of site out of mind.
A week ago last Friday, my cousin's husband died. They had recently diagnosed him with cancer, and the last time I saw him, he looked bad. But he had started chemotherapy, and was hoping to battle this terrible disease with all that he had. But his body had other thoughts, and his heart couldn't handle the strain of the treatment as well as the disease. He had a heart attack. And after multiple stents, he had an arterial occlusion, and the outcome was not good. He finally lost the battle and died. So young, only 59. And so he was buried on Wednesday.
I went to the funeral home, and sat in a chair, and looked around at the people gathered there. Many I didn't know, as my relationship was with his wife. But I looked at the few people gathered, and wondered about them and their life. Were they thinking of the man who had just died, or were they, like me, wondering about their own death? Because we never know when that time might come, how it will come, or the aftermath of our passing.
I sat there listening to the minister talking, a cousin of mine actually, but my mind was wandering to my own passing. I saw the flowers on either side of the casket (only 3 plants of flowers to celebrate a man's life...maybe many just gave money as I did, as the family would definitely need the cash more.) And I looked at the number of people who had attended. Such a small turn-out to celebrate someone who was so loved by his wife and step-children. And I wondered how many chairs would be filled when my time came? And the really sad part was....I think probably even less than he had. Everyone's lives are so busy making a living and having fun, that we often forget about others in the process. We push so far ahead that we miss what we have left behind. And than one day, there is no one behind, and we wonder what happened.
We left for the cemetery, and because his burial was a distance from the town, the drive took a while. Bad idea, cause it gave me plenty of time to think during the drive and so much of the time I was just shaking my head. Here we were, in a funeral procession, with the hearse and pall bearer car, followed by several cars all with headlights and flashers on, moving down the highway. And the number of cars that just drove on by going the other way was just amazing. What happened to respecting the dead? Respect would be to pull over immediately when you recognized a procession, and sit until the last car had passed. But few did this. Have we become so engrossed in our own lives that we can't take a minute to respect the family that is grieving for a lost member? That we can't say a silent prayer to help ease the pain. That we can't take a minute from our oh so busy lives to think for that minute about someone else? Now, I would never advocate someone being in a dangerous situation by stopping. But most of this road was one you could pull over without danger. So why didn't they?
I often think about the future and what it will bring. My mother died in her 30's and my father died at 59, so of course this plays a big part in my thoughts. And I wonder about that day. Will people stop and take the time to remember me, or will their lives be so important that they just can't take the time? Will I be missed at work, or will I just be a person that has to be replaced? Will my grandchildren take the time to tell me good-bye or will their social lives be too important to be bothered? And during that last drive, will any cars bother to show respect for me by pulling over, or will they just fly by on their way to their oh so important meeting? Morbid thoughts maybe, but they are truthful.
How do you measure a life-time of work? Does your death totally reflect how you lived? I would like to think that my life has impacted others, for the good. That I will be missed by others, and thought of often in good ways. That someone will have learned something from me that has made their life easier. But I just don't know that any of this is true. I look ahead to my funeral, and I see...a handful of chairs with people in them. I see pallbearers that I don't know, cause they couldn't get enough people that I do to perform the task. I see a minister I don't know talking about me in a generic message. And I see a funeral procession so short that if you blink you drive right by it. I guess my fear is having lived a life that made no difference to anyone, and that is a wasted life. That's it, I am just not going to die...this depresses me!!
So be sure to tell those that have touched your life that they made a difference. Hug your children and grandchildren a lot, as often as they will allow you to. Do something so that at your passing, others will know that you are gone, and will know that their world is now forever changed.
No comments:
Post a Comment