Sometimes I Feel Like a Piece of Bologna

Facing Mortality

The week before Christmas, I entered into a new phase of life. A friend died suddenly. She apparently had a heart attack and died instantly. At 57, she was just a few years younger than me. Her memorial service was the Saturday after Christmas.

I’ve lost a few friends to cancer over the years, but somehow this one felt different. Heart attacks happen to “older people.” Heart attacks seem to scream more loudly, “You’re aging. Your days are numbered.” And heart attacks are sudden, giving no warning. This was a mom I had home schooled with. Her son is a few years younger than my son. She was busy living her life, and suddenly she was gone, leaving a shocked and devastated husband and son.

Every funeral causes me to evaluate my own life. What is my legacy? What will they say about me? When my time comes, will I be satisfied with how I’ve spent my years or will I have regrets? What will I be remembered for? The pastimes I’ve invested my life in or the things I considered unimportant? Will I feel ready, content? Or will I insist on more time? (Not that it will do me any good!) I’m always grateful for the opportunity to take stock. Without funerals, I confess I’d become pretty complacent and give little thought to the fragility of my life.

My friend didn’t have family in the area, so several of us took on planning and serving at the memorial reception. We quickly pulled together a nice luncheon and worked together to serve. I wondered how many more such events I’d find myself serving at in the next 20 years or so. Or which of these women—friends for over 20 years--would be serving for me? As I was making little sandwiches, I thought, “This is what the “older women” in the church do.” And now, it looks as if I’m one of the older women. Am I ready for this?

Labels: aging, death