Inevitability Checklist: Taxes done ...

Recent events have me thinking about the inevitable future (NOT taxes).

My life in terms of assets/liabilities is pretty simple these days, so the complicated stuff is thinking about what I'd want in a memorial/funeral service.

The Remains
- Cremated
- Returned to "earth" at Kealakekua Bay, on the Big Island of Hawaii.

I've spent the happiest days of my life in Hawaii, and I have always considered Kealakekua one of my favorite spots.

This should happen at a time when my beloved family and friends could get reasonable get together and share another memory of me in one of the most beautiful places I've ever been.

Swim in the amazing water. Eat some amazing food, and have a Sapphire gin and tonic (with extra lime) for me.

The Service
I'm not a religious person. I don't know if there is a God, and I don't think it matters; if we're to be "judged" after death, judge me on my character and deeds, not on my beliefs.

To paraphrase Groucho Marx:
"I don't want to be in a heaven that would have Pat Robertson or Oral Roberts as a member."

And while I know members of my family would take comfort in something religious, I would feel hypocritical and wasteful to have a Catholic funeral service.

While I like the ritual and tradition that a Catholic service offers, I'd prefer to have attendees taking comfort in one another and (hopefully) thinking about good times with me.

I'd rather have a superb emcee than a priest leading things ... and the memorials I've found most memorable and moving where those lots of shared memories from family and friends of all the person's life-eras.

The Soundtrack
Music is a huge part of my life, and I often joke about what song is "now playing in the soundtrack of my life."

So, here is the soundtrack of my memorial, more or less in order. I imagine a few speakers, sharing memories of thoughts about their role in my life (or mine in theirs), between songs.


"You Can't Always Get What You Want" - The Rolling Stones
I know some will think this a little cliche, since "The Big Chill," but if it's not being played at the service, I'm thinking it.

I think we open the service with this song ... it's long enough and would be a good "call to seats" for the attendees:



"In My Life" - The Beatles
I remember thinking how much this song meant to me when I was 18. EIGHTEEN!?

I was so blessed to have had this life - the people and experiences -- and I've shown you the gratitude I feel.



"The Long and Winding Road" - The Beatles
A sentimental guilty pleasure ...



"Let it Be" - The Beatles
Because I love this song.



"Forever Young" - Bob Dylan
Because I love this song, not because I lived the sentiment, though I will continue to try:



"Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" - Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
I heard a National Public Radio tribute in to Israel Kamakawiwo'ole on his death in 1997, during which, they played this amazing recording.

I think this is the right song to close with. Joyous and poignant, it's always made me smile.

Perfection Wasted: R.I.P. Joshua

A friend got news yesterday that her son, Joshua, had been killed by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan.

I never met Joshua. But all the day long, I've found myself in moments of grief and tears ... for his loss, the agony his mother must be feeling, and (selfishly) for myself, imagining how I would feel if I ever got news of the death of one of my precious daughters.

I lost a buddy from basic training in the first war in Iraq in 1991, and though I grieved for him, and still honor him every Memorial Day, his death didn't affect me the way Joshua's death did.

You see, I wasn't a parent yet.

And Joshua's death has me considering the agony of all the other mothers and fathers and siblings and grandparents who have had to endure the death of a loved one.

The grief is made the worse by my frustration over the lack of any clear, achievable end to the fighting in Afghanistan, and the inevitability of the world's loss of many more men and women such as Joshua.

So, curse you, George W. Bush. And curse your your administration, which initiated this deadly and wasteful folly in Afghanistan and Iraq.

May history show you for what you are, and condemn you for the debacle, debt, death and anguish you leave as a legacy for generations.

To Joshua ... whom I never met.

Perfection Wasted
By John Updike

And another regrettable thing about death
is the ceasing of your own brand of magic,
which took a whole life to develop and market --
the quips, the witticisms, the slant
adjusted to a few, those loved ones nearest
the lip of the stage, their soft faces blanched
in the footlight glow, their laughter close to tears,
their tears confused with their diamond earrings,
their warm pooled breath in and out with your heartbeat,
their response and your performance twinned.
The jokes over the phone. The memories
packed in the rapid-access file. The whole act.

Who will do it again? That's it: no one;
imitators and descendants aren't the same.