I lived in San Jose, California for many years, 1981-1994. I remember somewhere in that time two ‘death’ events happening that made me stop and think about how it can come at any time, doing any thing. One just truly never knows.
The first event was a report in the local paper, The San Jose Mercury News. It told the story of an auto accident. The car, a convertible with the top down, was stopped in the outside lane of a two-lane wide left turn lane. The inside turn lane was a free and large vegetable truck carrying a load of tomatoes came up in that lane as the light turned green. It did not have to slow down for the red light. It was somewhat flimsy looking, with simple high walls of the truck made out of plywood. The truck was going too fast for the turn and as a result the tomatoes shifted in the back of the truck causing the entire truck to tip over and all the tomatoes to spill out. The tomatoes, plywood, crates and everything else made a direct hit on the convertible, killing the passenger. She was just going along with her life, driving who knows where and the next thing she knows she is suffocating under a load of tomatoes.
The second ‘death’ event I remember was the famous Air Florida flight 90 crash into the Potomac River in Washington, D. C. on January 13th, 1982. Reagan was President and he brought one of the heroes of the freezing river rescue to his State of the Union address that year. What hit me about the crash though was that the plane hit one of the bridges over the river, crushing numerous vehicles and killing four drivers and passengers in those cars. They weren’t speeding, they weren’t drunk, they weren’t taking the risk of flying. They were driving home from work. They look up and there is a gazillion ton airplane about to crush them.
It’s a horrible thing to think about. I hate the randomness of those stories. Luckily most of us actually do not die in that sort of freak accident. But all of us do die. And none of us know when we will die. All we can do in the light of that fact is live our life understanding it. That doesn’t mean you have to hug every person you know every day just in case it’s your, or their, last day. What it does mean is you will be happier with your life, long or short, if you live it with love and live it deliberately communicating that love, in word, image and deed. That is all there is to it.
Quote has been attributed to Gerard Way, 1977-not dead yet, American singer and comic book writer. Lead vocalist of the band ‘My Chemical Romance’. I was not able to verify he is the author.
Day #4 of Death Week at The Napkin Dad Daily. Don’t worry, today is a good death day.
Harry’s Bar – A Story of Life and Death
She was at the airport, about to board for her big adventure overseas. Going to Italy for a Vespa tour with her buddies from her NYC Vespa club. As she boarded her father, the famous man, called. He said in that funny, formal way of his; If you, or any of your party, enjoy liver and onions, you really have to go to Harry’s Bar in Venice. He had been there long ago he said and it was great. Not only that but the place was a landmark, was magical and was worth finding when she was there.
He had that great, unbridled enthusiasm for life he always had in his voice and she could hear the happiness he had in passing on this bit of information to his daughter, whom he loved. He wasn’t able to travel any more, having a bad back that prohibited it. She had even had to go on his behalf to various events honoring him, the famous man, because he couldn’t travel even within the states successfully. But nonetheless his joy was evident. He didn’t need to go, he just needed to talk to his daughter about the going. She knew that and smiled and laughed with him about his funny recommendation. She promised him she would try to find Harry’s Bar.
She knew they would not be in Venice for long but she asked the concierge at the hotel where Harry’s Bar was anyway. It turned out that it was not convenient to get to from where they were. They would have to take a water taxi the wrong way from their fancy restaurant destination. She decided she would find it later maybe. She didn’t really want to have liver and onions, after all. She would be disappointed if she didn’t see the place and she knew he would be too. But if it wasn’t to be, it wasn’t to be.
After the dinner at the fancy restaurant they decided to take a different water taxi back to the hotel. They strolled the streets after getting off, figuring they would find the hotel soon enough. Turning a certain corner she saw a little innocuous wood door and single window. but the big words on the glass in the door caught her eye. It simply said Harry.
She jumped at her friends and said ‘There it is, there it is, there’s Harry’s Bar, right there!’ She was surprised at her own enthusiasm but she went with it and bounded into the bar. Her father was right, what a magical little spot it was. She loved the old fashion feel to the place, the wood, the low lights, the crowd of drinkers. She could see what her dad was taking about and all of a sudden she was giddy with delight.
She decided she just had to call her dad. It was mid-afternoon back in the states and he answered while his wife was out doing errands. The daughter had to scream into the phone to overcome the noise of the bar crowd, but he could hear her easily. “Guess where I am, Dad? I am in Venice and I am in Harry’s Bar! You were right, it is a magical, beautiful place!” He asked her if they ate there and had the liver and onions. She told him she found it by accident after they dined elsewhere but that it didn’t matter. They were going to have a drink and enjoy the place for a while.
He was excited and happy, she could tell. His joy in hearing his daughter enjoying her life, especially a little part that he had a hand in so far away from home was a great joy. It was better than the awards he got for being a famous man. It was better than the publicity and the fame. it was better than the money. She knew he was loving hearing her voice having fun off in the wo
rld he helped give her. They hung up with each other happy to be joined in love.
Later the famous man’s wife came home. He proudly told her right away “Guess who called ME all the way from Venice!” He then told her about his daughter calling him from Harry’s Bar. He said “She sounded like she was floating on air.”
A few hours later they were settled in their easy chairs for the evening, watching the Golf Channel. He had his dinner and his martini. He was happy. His wife got up to go in the kitchen and then to the bathroom. When she returned the famous man was dead. He was gone and that was that. No hospital, no illness, no long, severe pain. One minute he was a happy, content father beaming at the happiness of his daughter, so much like him. The next minute he had moved on.
The daughter found out early the next morning. She was thousands of miles away, in a foreign country not knowing the language. She had to figure out how to get home. It took two trains to get to Pisa where she could take a direct flight back to America. The love and grace she was shown during that trip home and the kindness of her travel partners and complete strangers eased the grief. She came home and said her goodbyes. She didn’t say goodbye to a famous man, other people did that. She said goodbye to a good father. That is what he was to her, famous or not. That is what mattered to her.
She had no guilt, no remorse that she didn’t say goodbye to her father in the classic way. She had that moment. That moment that told him and told her that he lived on in her. She was taking one trip, he was taking another. He had passed on his humor, his joy, his attitude of fun, his willingness to take risks and try new things to her. Harry’s bar and their deep love and connection from thousands of miles apart had shown that. It was a sign and a story she could live with the rest of her life.
This story is dedicated to Jimmy Dean and his daughter, Connie.
Day #3 of Death Week at The Napkin Dad Daily. Cheery topic, eh?
Will the cheerleader at your funeral be buoyant with joy over your death or over the life you lived? And if you now realize they are likely to be happy you are gone, what are you going to do to change that?
What will people say at your funeral?
Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman of The Napkin Dad Daily
Quote by Robert T. Morris, 1965-not dead yet, American academic, creator of the first computer ‘worm’ on the internet.
If we are going to be in life eternal, there will be a LOT of time. What will we do and think with all that time?
Here are some traditional assumptions:
In that eternal time/non-time there will be no drama or trauma, no anger, no fear, no inadequacies, no danger, no boredom, no miscommunication.
No one will forget birthdays or anniversaries, say mean things to people even by accident or have bad thoughts.
These will not exist as well: jealousy, envy, gluttony, laziness, immoral thoughts, crass humor, sarcasm, perversions, disabilities, aches and pains, or bad memories.
There will be no worrying about how you look or what someone thinks of you. There will be no feeling superior to anyone, nor inferior to anyone. There will be no judgment based on race, creed, color, age, sex.
What do you think of these, are they true? If not, what will it be like if there is an afterlife? And if they are true, what will be be thinking about in the afterlife?
Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman of the Napkin Dad Daily
I have had a number of discussions about death recently, thought I would go looking for ideas on the topic. My wife has a co-worker with terminal lung cancer, not an easy thing to deal with. She is trying hard to keep in communication with her, asking her how she is, if there is anything she can do, etc. But when it is terminal and soon, what can you do? We talked about how there aren’t any easy sentiments to say or send in a card in that situations. It’s just hard and that’s that.
Another friend had a close family member commit suicide. It wasn’t expected as far as I know and they were very close. All you can do is offer condolences and help, gently talking about things as they are able and willing to talk. It’s another hard situation.
What are your thoughts on death? Are you afraid of it? What do you think is on the other side, anything? Heaven, consciousness, hell, limbo, Rambo?
A few pet peeve contradictory morbid confessions here:
#1. I always feel morbidly curious about the following phenomenon. Not the people on the airplane that crashes, but the poor guy in the car that was driving over the bridge that the airplane smashed into. Airline passengers accept a certain level of risk, even if they do everything they can to avoid thinking about it. But a person sitting at home watching ‘Wheel of Fortune’ does not expect an airplane to come crashing in the front room and kill him. I feel for that guy. What an unlucky break, right?
#2. The idea that we should actually treat each day as our last. That would be completely obnoxious if it happened every day. People crying, confessing, forgiving, wearing their ugliest outfits (or no outfits) etc. Nothing would ever get done! There would be a lot of dessert eaten though, of that I am sure. The contradictory part is that because I was once almost killed unexpectedly (blown up in a boat explosion) I actually make a point of saying things to people in the moment because I know that I might not get the chance to say it later. Mostly they are just simple compliments. But I don’t go crazy about it. I probably did more often when I drank, but my last drink was over 16 years ago so I don’t have that excuse anymore!
Back to the quote. Of course really following this admonition is silly, you aren’t going to die any happier if you ate a bite of cake last or a bite of mashed potatoes. But if you imagine this simple idea. One day it will be your last day. Likely it will be when you are old, maybe it will be in your sleep. But then again it could be by comet or by stray nuclear fission, who knows.
But here is a way to make sure you die happy, or as happy as you can die considering you would rather keep watching Wheel of Fortune. Instead of worrying about eating sweets before the end, just be sweet until the end.
We woke up this morning to a phone call telling us one of my wife’s employees had been killed in a car wreck. She has to go announce it to her division, make plans for how to respond as a company and as an individual to other individuals.
Sunday we were out furniture shopping when we met a saleswoman. We got into a conversation and learned her daughter had died in a car wreck just short of a year ago. She was just about to turn 15.
One of my recent friends on facebook (I went to high school with her sister and we connected via those FB connections) just recently came upon the 8th anniversary of her son’s death in a car wreck. Less than a month before she had to comfort an old friend whose son had just died in a car wreck.
What do they all have in common? We remain. The loved ones remain. The loved ones grieve. The loved ones suffer terrible loss. Where do we go with it? How do we carry that suitcase of grief? That heavy suitcase with no rollers, no convenient handles, a broken zipper so stuff keeps falling out on the street. That suitcase of grief that pops open at the most inconvenient times.
What do we do with that?
We get stronger and get some good duct tape and keep carrying it.
We empty it, put away the contents and put the suitcase back in the closet.
We tear the suitcase apart and make a sculpture out of it that we place in our backyard and the birds come and sit on it in the sun.
We give it all away to charity.
We empty it and take it along our further journey, using it to collect wonderful and redemptive experiences to share with other loved ones and to honor the memory of the lost one.
We do all those things.
Whatever we do, life still is yours to live. It has fresh peaches in it. It has Kilimanjaro to climb. It is worth living.
“What looks like a loss may be the very event which is responsible for producing the major achievement of your life,” – Srully Blotnick, 1941-2004, American author and Journalist
I know, I know. Who’s to say life before birth is all that bad, right? I mean you get to float around in warm water, get fed intravenously, and travel safe wherever you go. Maybe that is what happens after life as well. How are we to know.
The quote made me wonder and so, here are my profound questions of the day. Do you exist before conception? If so, where and in what form? If not, then how do we end up living for eternity given that we had a specific starting point in time before which we did not exist?
Just something light to think about as you go about your day.
