The Horrible Timing of my Own Death. 1/19/2010 7:50:18 PM
Seriously... The Horrible Timing of my Own Death.
It is certainly best not to give a lot of attention to the timing of our own death. It is best not to know a thing about it if we can help it. But I will not be so lucky. Whatever else may be said about my death, I will always know that the timing absolutely sucked. I am sorry; there is no other word for it. The timing of my death will have sucked due to missed opportunities. I can’t escape that.
Through the late 1980s and most of the 1990s I was the assistant administrator of the NJ Firemen’s Home. I was also on the local fire department. Now this is the honest truth. If I had died at that time- the state wide members of the NJ State Firemen’s Association, members of the Board of Managers of the NJ Firemen’s Home from every county in the state, all would have attended my funeral. My casket would have rested in the bed of a pumper from Fire District #4. There would have been a procession through the town in my honor. Donations would have been received, plaques put up at the Home and in the firehouse. But did I die then? No. I absolutely could not have missed a better opportunity. I would never have been divorced. Believe me; it is difficult to live with knowing about this missed opportunity to die.
But that is not all. It is as if life set me up once again. I got a second chance few ever get to really die right. I became the manager of a Convent. I was given the most blessed opportunity imaginable to serve the order of Sisters who founded one of our best local hospitals. I became known in Rome. The Pope became a friend of a friend!
If I had died while I held that position- my funeral would have taken place in the great St. Francis Chapel attended by Sisters from all over the world who appreciated my service. The CEO of the hospital system and his staff would have been in attendance. Donations given, plaques put up in the Convent, the dedicated service of John Bidwell in brass. But did I die then? No.
I didn’t die, but the Sisters did. One by one their numbers dropped, and people pretty much understand becoming a nun has gone out of fashion. It was not possible to sustain my position. If I am to serve the Sisters, there has to be Sisters.
So now, sure I’m thankful to be employed. I’m popular enough and not about popularity anyway. But if I die now, the crowd can arrive in a VW Beetle.
Actually, if I die now I think the folks around me will have to call the town recycling center to schedule a pick up.
I guess it shouldn’t make any difference since I would not have been around to enjoy my great funerals that might have been. This will only bother me until I die.
