Burying People
Please Visit: Mark Knows It All, the Web Site
This past week I have had to deal with a series of deaths of family members, clients, and family of friends. It began with my uncle, who went in for heart bypass surgery and never regained consciousness. Louie was a sweet, gentle man who was always front and center to help anyone in need, never lost his temper, and always was ready to forgive the frailties of those around him. Although he and his wife never had children of their own, they were blessed with a host of nieces and nephews who stood by, ready to help in any capacity they were able. Although Louie was 80 years old and led a full life, his death was untimely as he never exhibited any symptoms other than some mild chest discomfort, and we just weren’t ready for him to go. He will be missed.
Next to go was Fran, my 96 year client, who isolated herself from not only her family, but the world in general. She was a corker, feisty to the end. In one way, it was sad. On the other hand, Fran lived her life exactly as she wanted, and always got exactly what she wanted. Those of us who were charged with her care learned quickly not to disagree with her, and that she liked young, good looking men. She once told me she didn’t need me anymore, as the operator of the assisted living facility where she resided was better looking than me. She preferred his company to mine. Since her death, I have gotten to know Fran’s family. Their experience was the same as mine. I am not sure that God is ready for Fran, but ready or not, here she comes.
My cousin Marilyn lost her long battle with cancer on Friday. She just turned 60 and bravely tried to hang in there to see her daughter get married in June, but the pain was too much to bear. She requested termination of life support activities, including dialysis. We were raised more like brother and sister than cousins, with our families occupying respectively the second and first floor of the same duplex. She is survived by her husband of 4 years, by her 5 children, and her mother and father who are in their mid 90’s. No parent should have to bury a child, no matter what the age. My cousin and I drifted apart over the years for a number of reasons. Like Fran, she lived her life exactly as she pleased. It should have been longer.
Finally, my office experienced two losses. The mother of one of our long time office secretaries died after a brief illness, along with the mother of one of my lawyer associates. Both of these were unexpected. One of the funerals was private, and the other I was unable to attend because of my son’s graduation from Youngstown State. Both mothers will be missed.
Death is the great equalizer with which we all must come to terms. We all have experienced the loss of loved ones. But somehow, when several occur in rapid succession, desensitization sets in. Comforting religious words from the first funeral become nothing more than so many platitudes by the fifth, as one tries to get one’s own life back into the land of the living.
The “Circle of Life” becomes that tune I can’t get out of my head, as I watched my son graduate from college; as I finally talked to Fran’s family putting voices and people with abstract names; as I watched my cousin’s children get ready for a marriage celebration after their mother’s death; and as I got to visit and get caught up on the lives of my other cousins and their children as we celebrated the life of my Uncle Louie.
Such are the lessons from burying people.
This past week I have had to deal with a series of deaths of family members, clients, and family of friends. It began with my uncle, who went in for heart bypass surgery and never regained consciousness. Louie was a sweet, gentle man who was always front and center to help anyone in need, never lost his temper, and always was ready to forgive the frailties of those around him. Although he and his wife never had children of their own, they were blessed with a host of nieces and nephews who stood by, ready to help in any capacity they were able. Although Louie was 80 years old and led a full life, his death was untimely as he never exhibited any symptoms other than some mild chest discomfort, and we just weren’t ready for him to go. He will be missed.Next to go was Fran, my 96 year client, who isolated herself from not only her family, but the world in general. She was a corker, feisty to the end. In one way, it was sad. On the other hand, Fran lived her life exactly as she wanted, and always got exactly what she wanted. Those of us who were charged with her care learned quickly not to disagree with her, and that she liked young, good looking men. She once told me she didn’t need me anymore, as the operator of the assisted living facility where she resided was better looking than me. She preferred his company to mine. Since her death, I have gotten to know Fran’s family. Their experience was the same as mine. I am not sure that God is ready for Fran, but ready or not, here she comes.
My cousin Marilyn lost her long battle with cancer on Friday. She just turned 60 and bravely tried to hang in there to see her daughter get married in June, but the pain was too much to bear. She requested termination of life support activities, including dialysis. We were raised more like brother and sister than cousins, with our families occupying respectively the second and first floor of the same duplex. She is survived by her husband of 4 years, by her 5 children, and her mother and father who are in their mid 90’s. No parent should have to bury a child, no matter what the age. My cousin and I drifted apart over the years for a number of reasons. Like Fran, she lived her life exactly as she pleased. It should have been longer.
Finally, my office experienced two losses. The mother of one of our long time office secretaries died after a brief illness, along with the mother of one of my lawyer associates. Both of these were unexpected. One of the funerals was private, and the other I was unable to attend because of my son’s graduation from Youngstown State. Both mothers will be missed.
Death is the great equalizer with which we all must come to terms. We all have experienced the loss of loved ones. But somehow, when several occur in rapid succession, desensitization sets in. Comforting religious words from the first funeral become nothing more than so many platitudes by the fifth, as one tries to get one’s own life back into the land of the living.
The “Circle of Life” becomes that tune I can’t get out of my head, as I watched my son graduate from college; as I finally talked to Fran’s family putting voices and people with abstract names; as I watched my cousin’s children get ready for a marriage celebration after their mother’s death; and as I got to visit and get caught up on the lives of my other cousins and their children as we celebrated the life of my Uncle Louie.
Such are the lessons from burying people.
Comments