I honestly don't know. I have a strong belief that if I were to die tomorrow, someone, or something, would would force me to do a review of my past life. Whether this would be a celestial court overseen by an all knowing being or merely a chemical reaction as my neurons fired for the last time, is open to debate. Nevertheless, I suppose that I should probably start putting my house in order.
The gambler part of my personality believes that the more information that one gathers the better the chance of a positive outcome.
I really have not had a lot of experience with death nor the art and ceremony of dying:
- When I was in the 4'th or 5'th grade my uncle died. He had been a Catholic priest. He spent many years as a missionary in the jungles of the Amazon. In his later years he served in the Vatican in Rome. To me, he was the Uncle who explained to me why it was OK to serve hot dogs at the family barbecue on a Friday. This was during the Latin Mass days of the Catholic Church...your soul would burn in Purgatory for the smallest of infractions. Another family member, who was also a priest, and served as a prelate for the United Nations, prepared me for the funeral. He warned me that there would be over 100 other priests at the wake, and that they would probably all be drunk, happy and loud.
- Later, in my early years of high school, I was working on a project in hopes of winning a prize at the Science Fair. I had gained access to the morgue of a local hospital. I had carefully anesthetized my mice (each had been given a name) and was debating about how to kill them before I started my dissections. Unknown to me a lab tech or doctor had been watching me. He came up to me and said "You're doing it wrong!". He grabbed one of the mice ( Charley or Katrina, I'm not sure which one) by the tail and whacked it against the table. He then said "start cutting". I made a long incision and noticed the heart was still beating. I think my first thought was "Cool"! I no longer named my mice.
- My father approached his death when I was serving in Africa with the Peace Corps. I made it home just before he died. Our final conversation involved golf and a few other sports themes. My brothers and I got drunk that night.
- When my Mom died I tried to put together pictures and words; both for the catharsis, and as something to pass out to friends and family. It worked for me, but it certainly won't be one of Time's 100 best funeral pieces.
I am by no means ready to die! So, with that fact established, let's begin tomorrow at the beginning:
“When God began to create Heaven and earth, the earth was then without form, and void, and darkness was over the deep, and God's breath hovering over the waters.”
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