My Obituary

I have a friend who says he reads the obituaries every day to check whether his name is there, and if it’s not, he moves on with his day.

I enjoy reading obituaries. I start with the photos and note whether they look young. Did they die young, or is it a photo from their youth? Then I read the obituary to find out their age. It’s usually much older than their photo portrays.

Some obituaries contain a lot of writing. Is it because the person was interesting or the writer was verbose?

I’m also curious about a few phrases people use. Did the person “pass away,” “passed on,” or just “passed”? A few might say “deceased.” Occasionally, someone might say they “returned to Jesus” or “were in the arms of Jesus,” “their Lord,” or “their Maker.” Every now and then, someone is said to be “reunited with their spouse” or “their child.” With billions of galaxies out there and a pretty harsh atmosphere, I can’t quite see how that is going to happen.

I hardly ever read that the person “died” or is “dead,” even though that is what they did.

Oftentimes, family surrounds the person who is dying, written as “her/his loving family.” At times, they add “friends.” I then try to imagine this large group in a tiny bedroom or hospital room.

Almost everyone dies “peacefully,” but I’ve been in rooms where dying people are struggling and in pain. I never see that mentioned in obituaries.

What do I want in my obituary, or do I even want an obituary?

Most people don’t read the newspaper anymore, so why spend money on an obituary?

I’m of an age where most of my close friends aren’t alive, so who would care? I won’t because I am dead.

Sometimes, families write an obituary not because they believe the world cares that a family member has died but because they feel it helps them cope with their grief.

If my family decides they need an obituary, I would prefer they use the 1957 photo of me all buffed up at 200 pounds (since I was a competitive weightlifter) instead of the one of me today at ninety-three years old and 145 pounds. I still remember what my father said when he saw me like that in 1957: “You look like a freak!” Maybe we should skip the photo.

I want the writer of my obituary to say I “died” or was “dead.” Please, no “passing” or “going to Jesus.”

Everyone in my family knows that when I die, they should call the University of California, Irvine (UCI), where researchers will harvest my brain for the MIND center to study it and maybe share samples worldwide. My body should also go to UCI’s medical school. In my fantasy, I can see my skeleton hanging in a medical school, and a professor says, “Meet old Bil. He’s been hanging here for four hundred years, and he still has a smile on his face.”

Please do not use the words “He died peacefully.” No one knows whether I was peaceful or not, but my take is, especially after hearing people who were clinically dead but were still alive say the process wasn’t peaceful as all. It was a real struggle going through the tunnel with lights blazing and sounds blaring.

I hope my family doesn’t stand around waiting for me to finish the process. I would prefer them to be in another room planning a fantastic celebration of my life, which, I hope, will include a Hawaiian luau with poi and lomi salmon.

On second thought, let’s forget the obituary and wrap it into a eulogy.

Have you thought about your obituary? Do it now, and let everyone know.

PeaceLoveJoyHopeKindness

Bil

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P.S. People often ask me provocative questions about current events, both religious and secular. I have found that some of these questions are being asked universally. I’ll be periodically alternating regular articles with one of those questions and my answer. I invite you to send me your question to bilaulenbach@yahoo.com.

 

Photo by Brian Wangenheim on Unsplash