It's Your Funeral

One of the more interesting classes at Bishop Fenwick High School was Theology of Death.  While some lessons were purely academic, like studying the Church's beliefs on the afterlife or identifying the seven stages of grief, others hit much closer to home.  A very sobering assignment that stands out in my mind was having to plan our own funeral.  My teacher, Mr. Farley, wanted his students to think about where they were in life and how they would be remembered by others.

There were the small details to work out like who would give our eulogy or what kind of outfit our corpse would wear during the wake but we also wrestled with some pretty hefty decisions like figuring out what our obituary would say.  Such an introspective exercise quickly stirred up feelings of self-doubt.  I struggled to write something halfway decent and thought my obituary kept coming up short.

Reflecting on these feelings of inadequacy, I insisted someone read the last few lines of a Star Trek comic book during my mock funeral.  Once A Hero was published in 1991 and told the story of yet another ubiquitous security guard who gets killed during one of the starship Enterprise's away missions.  Instead of allowing him to be forgotten, Captain Kirk vows to find meaning in his death.  The problem was, nobody really knew anything about this security guard.

While trying to deliver a substantial eulogy, the captain laments, “Even though he was a member of this crew, sharing the same dangers and same rewards. Even though he was one of us, he was...a cypher.  A no one.  Defined by the parameters of his position: a security guard.  No one got to know him.  No one cared.  He spoke to no one, and no one spoke to him.  He was just another man in the ranks.”  Kirk then regrets the fact that he took this man's life for granted and warns that we must never lose touch with each other because, “...the death of even one of us diminishes us all.” 

This comic book spoke to me during my high school years because it highlighted how some of us simply fade into the background and go unnoticed even though we walk the same hallways as the popular kids.  We yearn to be well-liked or to find a sense of belonging but somehow our struggles go unnoticed.  It's a credit to the writer of that comic book that I remember the issue so clearly after all these years.

Everyone has a story to tell and while I was never one for reading the obituaries in the local newspaper, I've gotten into the habit lately.  Here, a person's whole existence is summed up in just a few lines.  What to mention and what to leave out?  Some obituaries describe rich and fruitful lives while others say very little at all.  Most mention the relationships these people had: wife of so-and-so...mother to this many children...with a number of nieces, nephews and grandchildren.  Work history also takes up a bit of space.  Many old timers served in the military and then went on to long careers at just one company before retiring.  (The United Shoe Machinery Corporation and General Electric were two of the area's biggest employers.)  How a person died is usually mentioned even if it's a little vague with expressions like “surrounded by family” and “unexpectedly.”

I guess my recent curiosity stems from the fact that I haven't had a very fulfilling life thus far.  Those relationships that are the cornerstone of a good obituary continue to elude me.  My jobs haven't been careers and the most meaningful things I've done came from volunteering.  As I scan the pages for how old or how young people were when they passed away, it makes me wonder if there's still time for many of my dreams.  That person who celebrated 60 years of marriage will never be me.  Yet another problem with being a chronically single Catholic.

Thinking back to that Theology of Death class, if I were to plan my funeral today the obituary probably wouldn't be very positive.  I've joked with friends that I should just tell it like it is by writing, “He left the world with a broken heart, hoping for the best but often finding hurt and disappointment.”  If Mr. Farley were alive today, I'm not sure what he'd have to say about that.