A long line of people waited patiently to enter the funeral parlor to say a last goodbye to a man who died two weeks ago. This man was a husband, father, grandfather, friend to many, and a photographer in this lifetime. I met him only a few times. From time to time, through the years, I’d heard about him from mutual acquaintances when I visited the town where he lived. His work took him to many places. He knew many people and belonged to many organizations for his community and his work.
When his son spoke at the mass for his father, he spoke about the man his father was, but mostly he spoke about the way he died. He had leukemia, and was supposed to live three months. He fooled the doctor and stayed for another two years. His son said during that time, “We laughed, cried, played and prayed intermittingly.”
He was prepared for death. How many people can say that? Preparing for our own death brings many benefits. It doesn’t mean we have to stop living. Not at all. It doesn’t have to be morbid. Death is a fact of life; to be comfortable with it makes perfect sense.
Plans were made for him and his family to take a cruise a few months ago. You can see from this that he lived until he died. However, the cruise was not meant to be.
Shortly before his father died, the son said, “. . . He called those closest to him around his bed. He said goodbye to each one of us individually, and told us what we meant to him. This was not the first time he told his family of his love but some how he knew that this was the last time. It was his final gift to us. He told us that he was ‘going home’ tomorrow and that he wanted to make sure he said goodbye to us one last time.”
When a copy of the son’s eulogy was forwarded to me, it was a joy to read. In the email the son said that “One of his father’s favorite sayings was ‘The magic is in the moment.’