Thursday, June 07, 2012

I am getting a living eulogy


We are close to the middle of the year and its as good a time as any other to reflect on the state of my life so far. In fact what is on my mind is not the many promises and resolutions I made to  myself about some idealistic or lofty goals I set for myself at the sunrise of the year, but more about what my whole life is worth todate  and for whatever time I have left.


Make no mistake, I am not about to die and I dont have a terminal condition that gives me only a short time to live. It is just that I am wondering and musing about the words and reaction my death will get from those who are near and dear to me. Seeing that I have no control over their reactions and emotions, I have decided to write for myself the eulogy that I hope they will read during my wake.


Infact I feel good about it because I have already come up with the opening lines of my obituary. It goes like this:


"Death has chosen a bad time to visit, at least for me, but in the knowledge that the day of our birth and the day of our death are the only certainites in life, there wasnt a way out it seems.


In days gone by, a man's measure was arrived at by how best he lived within the confines of his society's definition of honour, family pride, love of his nation, success at raising a family amidst plenty, how many enemies you put on a stake, etc A man lived by the dictates of his society but today different people impose on themselves different standards and expectations. We are no longer expected to all live within the boundaries set up over a long period and called called history, heritage or culture..............." 


I will pick up from here and continue to finalise the 2000 word's speech I will be reading during my funeral!  


Dying has inspired some great words and my favourite is a poem written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye called "Do not stand at my grave and weep" I also hope to be able to write my own poem that will accompany my eulogy. 



Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

Image courtesy of http://danimatchison.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html