I’ve been thinking about death lately.
Not horror death. Not like “oh, a new -Scream- is coming out and isn’t that why you hate garages because Rose McGowan got killed by one in one of the earlier movies?” More of a “Really? You’ve got to be kidding me!” kind of way.
See, one of my jobs is to proofread documents and fliers. Part of that is proofreading obituaries. Not the announcements that go in the paper. I don’t have THAT much power. Just the cards and bookmarks that find their way to the funeral home and are given to family and friends after someone dies.
I have decided that we have funerals for different reasons, one of which is to whitewash the deceased. For example, almost every single obituary I read has the line “and loved spending time with family and friends”. Or how about “had a smile for everyone (they) met”?
Yeah, right, okay.
It could be true, I suppose. It is easy to fake manners in public. But these things are (mostly) written by those who knew the honoree best. Those who saw them at home, at church, in the garden. And there is No Way someone can be that good all the time.
Well, okay, let me stop here. We have had to do cards when infants die. One was only a month old. That I get. The sappy poems and “our little angels” totally apply in that case. I’m not saying that I believe babies to be angels, I’m saying I get it. What are you supposed to say when your baby dies? Bring on the flowery language. Bring on the cute cherubs. Bring on the references to heaven. Totally. Understand.
But someone my age? Someone older? As much as I’d like to believe it is true, there is NO WAY every person who dies in Campbell County was always good. Or kind. Or church going. Or saved, for that matter.
I want to rewrite the obituaries sometimes. Or at least tell the writer to Get Real.
But I don’t. You don’t do that to grieving people who are either
a) realizing that their wounds and biases won’t ever heal and their unkind words will never be taken back
or
b) missing their loved one so much that all the CAN see is the beauty
or
c) both
What I HAVE decided to do is help.
Now Kenny and Jennifer know not to let the song “Amazing Grace” anywhere NEAR my dead body and they know that bagpipes (and now kazoos) are forbidden, but we haven’t talked obituary yet.
(And for those of you literalists out there, no I am not ill. I plan on living until my eighties. This is just for fun. And also a little bit of a reaction to sweet little poems that can be just plain stupid depending on how you are using them.)
So, Kenny, Jennifer and anyone else who might care, I present to you:
My Flaws
(don’t worry, we’ll end on virtues. This is just to give you some material for a non or at least less sentimental funeral card)
okay, in no particular order, here we go:
1. I get defensive. Just ACT like you are going to criticize me and I will attack faster than you can say “psychological mechanism”. I also have a temper. Over stupid things. Seriously. I am frequently mad at my hangers or the washing machine. THE WASHING MACHINE.
2. Once I have formed an opinion or belief, it’s hard for me to let go. For example, I don’t CARE if someone debunked the myth of Jesus and Judas in Da Vinci’s “Last Supper” being the same man. I like the story and I will believe it always. I also hold on to first impressions. I once encountered someone in Wal Mart. I could not remember who she was, but I knew that I somehow knew her. I also knew I didn’t like her. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why. True story.
3. I’m a hypocrite. I can find reasons to justify almost anything I do (like missing church or being late to work) but I HATE to be stood up or kept waiting.
4. I’m not a great listener. I like to talk and most of what I like to talk about concerns ME. (Cue Toby Keith here) I can be very un empathetic too. I try and see other people’s point of view, but I’m not very good at it. Usually I’ll have formed an opinion of what someone should do before they even tell me their problem. Usually I stick to that opinion AFTER they have told me their problem.
5. I’m depressed. A lot. A lot a lot. I swear, I think I run a low grade depression just like some people run a low grade fever. Clouds circle and I give in. Most of the time, I don’t even TRY to fight.
Got it? No “Amazing Grace”. No sappy poems. And don’t call me a saint or an angel.
If you MUST praise me, here are some virtues to focus on:
1. I love people. If the clouds aren’t circling, I enjoy talking with people. I like starting conversations and see where they lead. I like discovering new connections and learning new things.
2. I can be stubborn. If I set out to look for a lost hat, for example, then by Jingo, that hat better be good and lost if I can’t eventually find it. Once I’ve decided to solve some mystery (little ones like crossword puzzles and missing earrings, not big crime cases-I’m not THAT brave), it’s hard for me to quit. And I usually (eventually) find what I’m looking for. Or at least a reasonable facsimile of it.
3. I like to help people. Sometimes this involves more of Kenny’s money than he wants to spend but I generally like giving to charity or watching someone’s face when they get a present. I also love the mission project parts of the classes I teach. I love introducing my children to various needs and talking about ways I can meet them.
4. For the most part, people are people to me. It doesn’t cost anything to wish someone a nice day or to share a smile. I don’t generally think “Does this customer DESERVE me interrupting my counting out paper to get up and go see what they need?” They are a customer. I can help them or at least try. Now, if a customer is stinky (that is not a figure of speech. We really do have customers who actually do stink) and I can’t help them, I try to find a cheerful way to get what they need even as I am passing them off to a co worker. People are people. Why be mean?
I guess I want to be remembered as real. Crazy? Yes. Asking stupid questions? Sometimes. Enjoyed spending time with family and friends? Yeah, yeah I do.
But I’m also cranky and prone to depression. I cry for no reason. I get impatient. I’m always late (especially for work.) I take shameless advantage of my husband’s intelligence and ability to fix almost anything and hide behind being “Daddy’s Girl” especially when it comes to pancakes.
I’m judgmental. I hold grudges. I think things about people that I would never say to their face because I’m a coward and don’t like confrontation.
But I can be kind. And loving. And helpful. I like to sing and cuddle my cats and rock babies. I read and read and sometimes write. I like pretty colors and oversized sweaters and People Magazine. I eat more chocolate than is good for me and I look forward to navel oranges at Christmas.
I adore my nieces and their brothers. I adore MY brother. I think my husband is the best thing that every happened to me and I would have no idea what to do if I actually did run into Johnny Depp.
I’m not all that special. I’m really rather ordinary.
Please don’t canonize me. You don’t even have to remember me at all, if you don’t want to.
But I swear, if you do and I hear any kind of bagpipe start to play, someone’s in deep trouble!