Reality check

They are for the living. Funerals, that is.

I went to one today. People say the nicest things about you at your funeral, except, as we all know, you're not there to hear it. The better time to have people tell you the nice things about you is before your funeral, while you're still living your life and can actually hear it and appreciate it.

It was for my neighbor, who was a big hunk of sweetness rolled into a raging alcoholic. Despite the fact that we all loved him-we tried to show it by including him in neighborhood events-no one ever attempted to intervene or call him on his destructive behavior, myself included. People refrained from getting close to him because he was obviously trying very hard to kill himself. And so he succeeded, at age 63. He died alone from upper GI bleeding caused by ulcers from decades of grotesque alcohol abuse, leaving those who found him with the horror and a very big clean-up. All of his neighbors will get together and plant his sidewalk, as he expressed a desire every Spring to do so but wasn't in good enough health to do it himself. The best time to plant someone's sidewalk is while they're still alive to enjoy it, otherwise it seems like it's mostly to make oneself feel better about not doing it sooner.

On the other side of the world, there was another funeral, one that I couldn't attend. It was for my 88 year old uncle, who was a big hunk of sweetness, period. His love and service to his community is legendary. He had the biggest heart in the world and the biggest hands you've ever seen. When I made a fist, he could engulf it with his hand. In fact, when I saw him in May, we did that again. Then he reminded me of what a handful I was as a kid, which he did every time I saw him, too. We laughed and held hands. He knew I loved him, as did everyone who ever met him.

Funerals. I always tell Mr. M that I don't want a funeral. He then reminds me that I won't have much of a say in the matter at that point. True. But have mine be more like a big party then.