It’s a wonderful life
The obits have always been my favorite part of the newspaper, although decades ago my reasons were slightly … crass, to say the least. In my callow youth, I considered the obituaries to be comedy relief. I still remember the obit I considered the most hilarious of all time, the one that listed the deceased’s hobby as “amateur butcher.” I used to read this aloud and proclaim, to my own intense amusement, “What, this guy couldn’t have a normal hobby, like amateur dentist?”
Then I would continue my comedy stylings …
“Amateur butcher? What did his wife say, when the grandkids asked about grandpa? ‘Oh he’s down in his shop, butterflying a tenderloin.’ “
I rarely stopped there.
“Everybody needs a retirement hobby. But does it have to involve disemboweling goats?”
Sometimes I would really get on a roll and deliver a pretend eulogy: “Norman was a very, sensitive, caring and loving man. When anybody in the neighborhood needed a carcass rendered, Norman was always there for them.”
Well, now I’ve gotten older and wiser and I know that “amateur butcher” isn’t quite so outlandish as I made it out to be. The guy was probably a hunter and he probably took pride in his ability to provide his family’s meat, including cutting it and curing it. He probably also made a heck of a fine elk sausage.
Today, I can admire that. With the wisdom that comes with age, I would no longer laugh at Norman. Instead, I’d try to get hold of his elk sausage recipe.
The obits are still my favorite part of the paper, but for entirely different reasons. Now, I consider every obit to be a miniature biography; every one a tightly packed compendium of life wisdom. What I’m trying to say is:
Everything I Needed to Know, I Learned from Reading the Obits.
The obits are, quite simply, an outstanding reminder that we need to live our lives in a way that makes us as interesting, as loved, as unpredictable, as selfless, as happy, as productive and as downright worthwhile as the people I read about every single day.
Or, to put it more simply, we need to make it easy for our next of kin to write a good obit.
Because an obit is where our loved ones make the case for our existence. We need to give them so much material that even the most impartial observer – say, St. Peter – will have to concede that we’re worth the space we have taken up on earth, not to mention the space we have taken up on page C9.
The bar is set high, because I am constantly finding wonderful obits of people I want to emulate. Here are a few, lifted from actual obituaries that have appeared on our pages:
“”He probably climbed every mountain around here in his lifetime, and walked every field.”
“”His love was his dance band, ‘Runnin’ Country.’ “
“”Quick-witted and willing to lend a hand, people knew they could count on him.”
“”He imagined himself an accomplished golfer.”
“”She taught Sunday school, led Missionettes, sang in the choir, counseled at camps, quilted with the Women’s Missionary group and was honored as Mother of the Year.”
“”One of his greatest joys growing up was riding a good horse through the mountains of the Coeur d’Alenes.”
“”He was awarded the Golden Acorn by the local PTA for community service and was the community Santa Claus for many years.”
“”He was always looking up and identifying birds, and sharing his new knowledge with his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. There were many nights when he would call a family member at midnight because he had seen unusual star formations or the Northern Lights.”
“”He enjoyed drinking with friends and reminiscing about times gone by.”
“”He built the lake cabin at Twin Lakes, where his 100th birthday was held.”
“”Above all else, he was a family man. His wife was the joy of his life.”
“”He won the ‘150 MPH Jacket’ and enjoyed spending time at the Deer Park Drag Strip.”
“”A whiz with numbers, she never forgot a date or a phone number. She was often described as ‘the smartest woman I’ve ever known.’ “
“”He enjoyed spending time on the Pend Oreille River and spent the last two years of his life just watching the wildlife and the river.”
“”He excelled during his years of service, receiving multiple awards and decorations, including the Combat Infantry Badge, Expert Infantryman Badge, the Parachutist Badge, the Expert Marksmanship Badge, two Army Commendation medals and two Army Achievement Medals.”
“”Though she often became exhausted (while taking care of her ill husband), never in the time of her caregiving was she angry, short-tempered or embittered by the burdens she bore. Her sweet temperament and abiding faith in God lifted her up, though she was weary, and gave her grace to see the beauty in the small things of life: a hot cup of tea, a flower, a friend.”
And those have been just in the last month alone.
Clearly, I have my work cut out for me. I need to start a country dance band, learn how to drag-race, win the Golden Acorn, climb every mountain, win Army decorations, be named Father of the Year, become patient with life’s burdens, and, finally, become the smartest man anybody has ever known.
I’ll start tomorrow.
One more thing: I need to learn how to butterfly a tenderloin.