When should we honor people
I hate going to funerals. If it were possible, I'd never go to another (including my own). I'm of the firm belief that we should honor our loved ones and cherished friends while they are alive. Extol their virtues so that they know how we feel, rather than hopefully being able to watch the ritual from some afterlife...assuming one exists. Until someone ventures beyond death and then returns, we will never know what's next.
I found out that there was a funeral today for the woman who used to share a table with me in the dining room where I live. She'd gotten ill a few months ago and been moved on what was supposed to be a temporary basis to a rehab facility, following a hospitalization.
She was in her mid to late 80s. She was intelligent, paid attention to current events and politics, had a sharp mind and definitely knew what she wanted. She had a lot to say about the conditions here, especially the food, but never expressed it in any way other than politely. Okay, maybe she got a bit insistent at times, but never broke decorum.
I didn't know her very well. Aside from meals and meetings, I can remember only two interactions we had outside of the dining room. One was when she asked me to come up to her room and fix her cable television. She'd done something that had caused her to be unable to use the TV. It took me ten or twenty minutes to fix it. The other time was when she'd just come back from a different hospitalization and wanted to speak with me in my capacity as the president of the resident's council. She had some concerns which I addressed to management.
There have been other people who lived here and died during my stay here with whom I had closer ties. I didn't go to their funerals. I didn't know their families. We didn't have friends in common. I'd met my tablemate's daughter and a couple of her granddaughters but didn't know them all that well. I certainly didn't have anything to say at a memorial service. So I didn't go.
Am I a horrible person? I don't think so. Am I a rude or uncaring person? I don't think so. Robert J. Shea, a pretty talented writer of fiction wrote this in one of his novels: “Death is not the enemy of life. Life is the mountain, death is the valley. As the snowflake that falls on the mountaintop is carried at last to the river, so your self has at last rejoined the Eternal Self. I congratulate you, Brother, on a life well lived. You have seen all the arrows fly, you have seen all the swords fall. You will remember nothing and you at last will be forgotten. But in remembering the Self, we remember you. The Self never forgets.” Then he wrote that the person who had recited this Prayer to a Fallen Zinja realized that the prayer was not so much to honor the dead as it is to comfort the living.
I love my immediate family. They may try my patience at times, but I don't love them any less as a result. In spite of everything my father did to me during his life, I never stopped loving him. I still love him. I was fortunate to be able to tell him that very shortly before he passed.
My friends know how I feel about them. I treasure them and the time/experiences we have shared and will share.
Even my clients know that I do care about them. I do what I do because I like helping people. I can make a positive difference in their lives.
I get joy from staying in contact with or just encountering students I helped long ago, who are now adults and doing amazing things with their lives. It makes me feel like the long hours and hard work were worth it.
So I'll continue to honor those I truly care about while they live. Please don't take it personally if I'm a no-show at your funeral. Hopefully while you were around I let you know how important to me.
I found out that there was a funeral today for the woman who used to share a table with me in the dining room where I live. She'd gotten ill a few months ago and been moved on what was supposed to be a temporary basis to a rehab facility, following a hospitalization.
She was in her mid to late 80s. She was intelligent, paid attention to current events and politics, had a sharp mind and definitely knew what she wanted. She had a lot to say about the conditions here, especially the food, but never expressed it in any way other than politely. Okay, maybe she got a bit insistent at times, but never broke decorum.
I didn't know her very well. Aside from meals and meetings, I can remember only two interactions we had outside of the dining room. One was when she asked me to come up to her room and fix her cable television. She'd done something that had caused her to be unable to use the TV. It took me ten or twenty minutes to fix it. The other time was when she'd just come back from a different hospitalization and wanted to speak with me in my capacity as the president of the resident's council. She had some concerns which I addressed to management.
There have been other people who lived here and died during my stay here with whom I had closer ties. I didn't go to their funerals. I didn't know their families. We didn't have friends in common. I'd met my tablemate's daughter and a couple of her granddaughters but didn't know them all that well. I certainly didn't have anything to say at a memorial service. So I didn't go.
Am I a horrible person? I don't think so. Am I a rude or uncaring person? I don't think so. Robert J. Shea, a pretty talented writer of fiction wrote this in one of his novels: “Death is not the enemy of life. Life is the mountain, death is the valley. As the snowflake that falls on the mountaintop is carried at last to the river, so your self has at last rejoined the Eternal Self. I congratulate you, Brother, on a life well lived. You have seen all the arrows fly, you have seen all the swords fall. You will remember nothing and you at last will be forgotten. But in remembering the Self, we remember you. The Self never forgets.” Then he wrote that the person who had recited this Prayer to a Fallen Zinja realized that the prayer was not so much to honor the dead as it is to comfort the living.
I love my immediate family. They may try my patience at times, but I don't love them any less as a result. In spite of everything my father did to me during his life, I never stopped loving him. I still love him. I was fortunate to be able to tell him that very shortly before he passed.
My friends know how I feel about them. I treasure them and the time/experiences we have shared and will share.
Even my clients know that I do care about them. I do what I do because I like helping people. I can make a positive difference in their lives.
I get joy from staying in contact with or just encountering students I helped long ago, who are now adults and doing amazing things with their lives. It makes me feel like the long hours and hard work were worth it.
So I'll continue to honor those I truly care about while they live. Please don't take it personally if I'm a no-show at your funeral. Hopefully while you were around I let you know how important to me.
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