"Walk In The Rain"

Well, I'm back in Norman now, and Wendy is either en route to Virginia or back there already. The funeral was a very low-key affair and fairly short (we were in and out within a half hour). It was an understandably somber weekend, though Wendy did manage to smile and laugh some and act like herself. She really did not want to be at that funeral, and for reasons that seem very rational to me. She didn't want to admit that her grandmother was gone, for which I can't blame her. She also didn't want this to be the way she remembered her grandmother, and though I'd never really thought of funerals in that way, it made a great deal of sense to me. She actually went so far as to tell us (me and her boyfriend, Tim) that she did not want a funeral of any sort when she died. I don't know if that makes us semi-official executors of her will or anything, but she made us promise.

Of course, it got me thinking (morbidly) about my own funeral and what I want to happen. I gave it some thought, and decided I wanted everyone to have a party. Bury me or whatever, I don't really care about that. But when you're done, get everyone I love together, break out the champagne, and rock the house. I'm already working on a song list of the stuff I want played (and everyone will have to subject themselves to classic rock). What I think would be really fun is to have a picture of me on a stick at the party...a proxy, if you will. Just don't let me drink too much, it'd be bad for my health.

I'm making light of this stuff, but honestly, I think the only reason we mourn most people is they were taken from us before we were ready for it. I remember crying when my great-grandmother died back in 1995 (admittedly, mom told me while she was taking me to play practice that my great-grandmother had died almost a week earlier, and I was only 14 or 15, but I wasn't ready to hear that), but I didn't cry three years ago when my great-grandfather died. I guess I knew he was ready to finally let go (he was a tired, tired man by that point, and ready for a little rest, he said), and we were all at peace with that. I was still very sad to see him go, as his presence had been a fixture in my life (as had my great-grandmother's), but I was able to deal with it better.

Of course, I don't think I'll respond nearly so well to any of my grandparents dying. I'm not ready to cope with that, and I hope I don't have to for a long, long time.

Death is one of those unfortunate aspects of life which everyone has to face. There's no way around it, ultimately, and we don't always get to choose the time or the manner. All we can do is face it and accept the unavoidable, to meet death without fear and without anxiety. It's not easy to do. I don't know that I could do it right now. But when my time does come, I hope folks remember the good that I've done, whatever it may be.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: REM, "The One I Love"