Do you ever think about what you would like your funeral to be like? How about your obituary? My friend, Miriam, posted a bulletin asking a bunch of her friends what song they would like to have played at their funerals. The answers ranged from sweet ("Perfect Day" by Lou Reed) to unavoidably cheesy ("Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen) to absolutely perfectly fitting ("Don't Stop Believing" by Journey).
Sure, I think about my obituary, my legacy, what I want to leave behind to my friends and family. In what way do I live my life so that the space created by my eventual passing will reflect the true meaning of me? I aspire to this obituary from yesterday's Palo Alto Daily News:
"Michael Fau, a native of Redwood City who lived there his entire life, has died at the age of 55. Born April 28, 1949, Fau loved bowling and hats."
It goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that I've lived in a number of places, and plan to live in many more, would never aspire to live in Redwood City, and intend to live well past the age of 55. But how simple. How eloquent. How meaningful and admirable and perfect. He loved bowling, and he loved hats.
Maybe I'll request that my obituary be a haiku.
Deborah Kaye has passed.
She loved her dogs and Scrabble.
We'll miss her muchly.
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1 comment:
I adore you how?
there is no way to measure.
you go on, girlfriend.
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