Sunday, January 13, 2008

Friday night I did an odd combination of events. I had to go to a singles dance as part of my job as a singles columnist for a local magazine. (What a job, right?) I knew it would be fun, and I was right. But just before we went, I felt compelled to stop in at the funeral home for a viewing. It was quite a contrast of emotions.

A man in my community, just a little older than me, was killed in a motorcycle accident. Initial reports didn't indicate drugs or alcohol were involved on either party's part. The man was wearing his helmet. I don't think excessive speed was involved. Someone just didn't see him and pulled out into the road where he was driving.

I have encountered his wife several times in our community. She worked at the pre-school where my daughter went. I taught her daughters in Sunday school 6 or 7 years ago. My oldest daughter and her youngest daughter have become friends and slept over each other's houses this fall.

The funeral home was packed. Although I am not close to the widow, I can't imagine the trauma and fear and worry she is feeling and I felt compelled to go hug her. I'm glad we have the tradition of a viewing for just such a purpose.

Because we have never been close, I'm not sure how to help in the months to come. I have talked to other widows who said they just appreciated it when someone came and did something, like walk the dog or mow the grass. I suppose I can just keep my door open for her daughter who is my daughter's friend and watch and listen for something we can do.


Does being reminded of the fragility of life make you enjoy yours more? I think it is easy to ignore the fact that we're all going to die. We don't know when. Better make the most of things now. Some people think it is morbid to dwell on our mortality, but I find it a bit motivating.

3 comments:

Linda said...

I had the same experience with this widow. The only thing I could do was hold her and let her cry. I imagine she'll need a lot of that, I can't imagine what else she'll need that we could give. Such a shame. I just keep sending her energy and light, I have to believe that will somehow help in my small way.

And yes, after I heard of this, I have held my husband closer. I do think that things like this can be used to remind others how insignificant leaving the toilet seat up is in the grand scheme of things. I imagine S would give anything for that toilet seat to be left up again. Namaste'

Unknown said...

I never get a grip on funerals. I can't function for myself or someone else. I show up and just am there. I can't think of comforting words.
I can reach out to someone but I can't say anything.
Even funerals of family members seem surreal and faraway.
I can see it being a motivating experience and a thinking person would use that for the better.

Mom said...

Leuconoe, don't ask — it's dangerous to know —what end the gods will give me or you. Don't play with Babylonian fortune-telling either. Better just deal with whatever comes your way.
Whether you'll see several more winters or whether the last one
Jupiter gives you is the one even now pelting the rocks on the shore with the waves of the Tyrrhenian sea — be smart, drink your wine. Scale back your long hopes to a short period. Even as we speak, envious time is running away from us. Seize the day, trusting little in the future.

Horace