I love biographies and autobiographies, I enjoy reading about people’s life stories. As of late, some high profile people have died which was covered by the press and social media. I couldn’t help but notice the overwhelmingly positive things being said and written about them—which was lovely to hear—but I know full well that after we die our life stories suddenly are filtered through rose coloured glasses. It seems everyone of us becomes a saint after we die! “She was a great mom and she really loved her kids”, well unless she was a sociopath, all mothers love their kids—as far as being a great mom I guess we all try our best. “He was the best father in the world”, he was your only father so how can he really be the best? Ok, it’s a tongue in cheek comment, but you get my point.
I want to learn about someone’s life through recounted memories, and not just overwhelmingly positive ones. I want to hear about their great accomplishments, but I’m certain I can learn more from their failures and faults—which make them more real and not sound like a plastic statue that did no wrong. Give me the grit and the grind of someone’s life—and not necessarily their deepest darkest secrets either, I do believe some things should be taken to your grave.
I just don’t think we do anyone justice by giving polite eulogies. They are predictable and I think serve no purpose. Ok, this is a snippet of how I want my eulogy to sound like, but I won’t get into my impact on the person speaking—that will be up to them—I just want to sound like a real person who had real feelings and faults (assuming I die at my present age, 42):
“Gilda was a lovely person to be around. She sometimes made me laugh with her dry sense of humour. I enjoyed her company. In a group setting she could be observant—even pensive at times—but when she joined a conversation she often added colourful language and could become quite passionate on subjects ranging from politics to social conundrums, and just about any topic in between really. She was not soft spoken and could be stubbornly opinionated. She listened well but often had a smart-ass comment readily available on the tip of her tongue. When the conversation turned serious she was a good listener and offered sound advice where appropriate. She was a mother of two children. She could be heard from down the street yelling at her children to be careful, and often you could hear her laying down the law when one of them stepped out of line. This could be annoying because she didn’t really care where she was…any place was the right place for a ‘teachable moment’. Gilda loved to dance, take pictures, write, design, and also throw parties. Not a proficient in either of these areas but she did it with all her heart and with a smile. I’ll miss Gilda’s quirky ways. As her husband once said, ‘If everyone is going on the 401 East, Gilda is going on the 401 West’. I will miss her. May she rest in peace”.
See! What’s so hard about that? It’s not a perfect picture of me—it’s not a terrible one either—it’s just honest. I actually think we should all write our own ‘last words’ to be read aloud at our funeral, a mini autobiography if you will. Actually, I just finished reading Barack Obama’s autobiography, A Promised Land, which I enjoyed namely because he has a great ability to write about his accomplishments and how he achieved them, as well as his regrets and mistakes. It was a fascinating and refreshing book. Eulogies should be as refreshing and impactful, with real takeaways that those listening could reflect upon, and possibly incorporate in their own lives. So let this be an FYI to those I will one day leave behind—please don’t paint me out to be a saint—talk about my faults, find teachable moments to share with others, give my eulogy a sense of purpose for those listening, and most importantly don’t make me sound like a perfect human who lived a perfect life because I am equally proud of my accomplishments as well as my mistakes—which shaped me to be the person I am.
Thoughts At F___ It Forties 