My utopian friend's mother died this morning. The family threw her a big blowout one hundred birthday party this spring. There was really not much wrong with her, she just faded away over the course of a few weeks. Very very long weeks for her family. It was interesting to speak with the family during this final episode of their beloved 100 year old mom's life. As soon as I found out she was sick/not well/in the hospital my thought was to make her as comfortable as possible and say goodbye. (Even to myself that sounds some what cold- but to me 100 is all bonus time.) When I asked a family member what their goal with the mom was the family member said "To get Mom well and bring her home." Which surprised me. I'm pretty sure that if living forever is a choice I wouldn't want it. After somepoint, the thrill is gone, no? I always assumed that if I lived long enough and kept all of my marbles that one day I'd wake up and know that I had had enough, I had done all the living I was going to do and that I was ready to go.
Then there is the jealousy part. This wonderful man, my friend, son of the 100 year old lady who died is older than my own mother was when she died. I only got a mother until I was in my 40's. He is in his 70's. That does not seem fair. Or maybe it was because my mom was suffering and his mom never suffered. I'm sure if I was in my own mother's shoes I'd think the last 18 months of her life was the most unfair situation ever. Maybe my mother dying was the best thing that could have happened to her.
This all makes me wonder what I would do if I knew my own clock was ticking. Would I sky dive, party like Paris Hilton or run with the bulls? I doubt it. I'd probably throw catered dinner parties and savor all the friend and family time without having to do the cooking and cleaning. I most defintiely would not waste my last precious earth moments doing dishes. I'd probably print out my favorite photos and give a lot of gifts. I'd hope that the receivers would get happiness from my prints. Or they could use them for kindling. I'm pretty sure that kind of thing doesn't matter to you once you are on the other side. (Which I totally believe in, incase you are wondering)
I totally suck at funerals because I'm a big time cry baby. In a world where I try not to draw attention to myself you'd think I'd sit quietly in the corner and not cry at all, but I can not for the life of me do that.