Lifetime awards and our funerals
Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn once attended their own funeral and saw how their lives were viewed by family and friends. After running away to live as pirates on Jackson’s Island, their disappearance caused a search for their bodies and the subsequent funeral.
We often daydream about what people will say at our funerals. This can be humorous as in Harrison Ford’s response to a “Lifetime” award he received at eighty-three. Ford suggested it was a bit early, since he was still working as an actor.
“I’m in a room of actors, many of whom are here because they’ve been nominated to receive a prize for their amazing work, while I’m here to receive a prize for being alive… This is very encouraging,” he quipped.
Catholic spirituality recognizes meaningful ministry by persons of all ages. Saint John Paul II and St Teresa of Calcutta are great examples that our life’s purpose doesn’t retire. Vocations to love and service do not expire.
Paths To Go, by Mary Nelson, tells the story of a sixty-seven-year-old “Constance” who attended the wrong funeral but got the right life-lessons from it. The pastor talked about a woman who touched many lives by her actions.
A mailman stood up, "I delivered her mail for twelve years. Every day, she left me a bottle of water in summer. Hot coffee in winter. Never asked for anything. Just wanted me to know someone noticed me."
A teenager said. "She was my neighbour. When my parents were fighting, I'd sit on her porch steps. She never told me to leave. Just brought me lemonade and sat with me. Never asked questions. Just...... sat."
An elderly man. "I was homeless for three years. Slept behind her building. She never called the cops. Left food in a box where I could find it. With a note that said, 'You matter.'"
Strangely enough, the funeral was for a Constance Marie Parker, same name (different middle name) as our narrator, same street. They had lived parallel lives. Same age. Same town. But she'd been extraordinary.
Constance left that funeral service and found the right one. Robert's service was fine. Standard. People said he was a good worker. Reliable. Showed up on time. But no one mentioned water bottles or lemonade, or notes that said, "You matter."
Constance drove home and thought about the other Constance Parker. “She'd been extraordinary. And I'd been...... what? Reliable. On time. Good at my job. But invisible. Forgettable.”
“Who would speak at my funeral? What would they say? That night she started thinking differently. The mail carrier comes at two p.m. every day. She’d never spoken to him. The next day, she left water on her porch with a note. "For the mail carrier. Thank you for your service." He knocked on her door. "Ma'am, did you leave this?"
"I did. You come every day. Seems like someone should notice."
He teared up. "In fourteen years, you're the first person who ever said thank you."
She started noticing other people. The garbage collectors. The delivery drivers. The teenager who mows lawns in the neighbourhood. She left water. Coffee. Notes. Small acknowledgements.
Last week, a mother came to Constance’s door. "Thank you for being there for Kayla. Her dad and I are divorcing. She says sitting with you is the only time she feels calm."
Accidentally attending your own funeral can be a wake-up call. It's not too late to become the person we wish we had been.
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