On Life & Death...........

A few weeks ago I attended a funeral in California with a friend. I am not fond of funerals, (I know, who is?) Unless it is someone within my close circle of friends/family, I avoid them. I've never made a practice of attending funerals. Up until this one, I could count the number I've been to on one hand, all relatives, three of which were my parents. I attended this one because my friend needed a friend by her side (and to be honest she caught me off guard and I couldn't come up with an excuse fast enough to say no!)

I suppose as far as funerals go, this one wasn't bad. In fact, it made me think a little more deeply about life and death and those we leave behind. This particular funeral was graveside. The body had been cremated and separated into six containers. This was done because his children were disputing just where the remains should be laid. Four of the six containers were being placed into a family plot that represented three generations of those that had had departed before him, those he have loved. The remaining two were going somewhere yet to be determined.

Funerals exhaust me, especially those of the elderly, and the stories that made up their lives. Since I was not a family member, I hung out in the back watching, and wondering what all these people were thinking. My friends uncle was being buried in the small farming community he grew up in. There were no flowing black dresses or midnight black suits. His family and friends were dressed in their best informal attire, and crisp cream colored cowboys hats were sprinkled amongst the small crowd.

Perhaps it was the 100 degree weather or the down to earth sensible community that promted a speedy service. The speaker summed up this man's life in under 15 minutes. He was a son, a brother, a veteran, a father, an uncle, a friend. You could see proud old men with their hands in their pockets looking down at the ground, hanging tough as their wives sniffled in their seats. They listened intently to the speaker, recalling the stories told and the role they played in those stories. Pictures of his youth and in his military uniform were displayed proudly beside a flag and small toy trains he collected. Nic nacs of his past, memories of his existence.

I went away from this funeral and spent a good part of the five hour drive home thinking about the lives we live and those we encounter along the way. I would like to think that the legacy we leave behind lasts longer then the 15 minutes of our eulogy. Surely, our existence on this earth of 60, 70, 80+ years will leave lasting imprints on someone's soul/heart enough for our memory to linger a little longer.

And in turn, I hope we leave no unfinished business behind. No "I love you's," not said, No "I'm sorry's" unspoken. And perhaps most importantly, I'd like to think we lived the best life we could, a life that left no room for doubt or regrets..........