This week’s finalist for dumbest thing everybody says:
“At least he died doing what he loved.” No, no, no, no and no. I do not want to die doing what I love and I suspect that’s true for most people. I imagine the conversations at the funeral… “Yeah, little Ayden hasn’t stopped screaming since gramps keeled over on him at the park, but at least he died doing what he loved.” "Eleanor is sleeping on the couch in the den now, but at least Herbie died doing what he loved.” “Everyone in the buffet line stops and cries when they get to the dent in the pasta bar, but at least Jimmy died doing what he loved.” Who came up with that crap and who was gullible enough to pass it on, and on, and on, and on….? Nobody wants to die doing what they love, because they love doing it and want to continue. Much better to die in the middle of the worst, most aggravating, useless, thankless, filthiest task imaginable, the kind of job so miserable that you actually look up at the sky and say, “Please, Lord, take me now.” Every so often, after a funeral, I’ll think about the guest of honor, both how they lived and how they died, and make a mental note of whether the scenario has any appeal. When it’s a person who lived a long life, spent the last day with family and then died peacefully in their sleep, it’s pretty hard to complain. Other times, I’ll leave with a new commitment not to go LIKE THAT. But I have never attended a going-away party and thought it would be great to die in the midst of bliss. If you must know, my vision of a great death is more heroic. Perhaps I would collapse right after saving a dozen children from a burning building, or maybe saving a busload of nuns from careening off a cliff. I’m a writer at heart, so I want to leave behind a good final story for the grieving multitude. I’ve also considered a scenario where I save all the Sports Illustrated swimsuit models from a tsunami, but I haven’t finalized the details yet. Every time I imagine it, it seems too much like something I’d love to do.
18 Comments
David Spitulnik
6/3/2018 11:07:20 am
well said. thanks
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Dani
6/3/2018 11:09:58 am
This post reminds me of a similar complaint--a couple of days ago I was on a plane--on what was supposed to be a 1.4 hour flight, that took a bit more than 8 hours to get us where we were going...at each delay/rerouting (thunder storms), we were told "thank you for your patience." By hour number 7, there was precious little (NO) patience anywhere on that plane...and it was positively insulting to be thanked for something that simply was not present...
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Michael Rosenbaum
6/3/2018 08:35:12 pm
"Thank you for your patience," sounds more upbeat and confident than, "Please don't turn us into your inflight snacks."
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Michael Levy
6/3/2018 11:26:10 am
Choose life :)
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6/3/2018 12:19:32 pm
Great subject! I suggest reading a friend of mine's book at Amazon by Warren Driggs, "A turtle in the road"! Provides a lot of material for discussion, thought(s) and consideration in the aging process.
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Michael Rosenbaum
6/3/2018 08:37:36 pm
Aging process? Can't imagine what that might be. Of course, I can't imagine much anymore.
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Marlene Ambrose
6/3/2018 01:18:56 pm
You always hit the nail on the head! (Now that wouldn’t be the way to go either:) Keep up the good work Michael!
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STEVEN THOMAS
6/3/2018 01:22:34 pm
Enjoyed your musings Michael. You bring up something worthy of contemplating...our last moments. Something we all, I presume, like to "look around," because it begs seriousness...it sobers the most feckless of us. I know the gist of your sharing is lighthearted...but digging a little deeper we find something that likens itself to spiritual smelling salts...that states, it really doesn't matter how any of us die...but did we live...did we truly live a life that will radiate long after we are gone.
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John
6/3/2018 02:13:22 pm
I hope to be splerffing at the time
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Jeff Hyland
6/3/2018 03:19:24 pm
Interesting post. Jimmy Buffett said it well with the phrase, "I'd rather die while I am living than live while I am dead." What is most interesting to me is that we generally don't have a choice on timing or method that we die. I am not sure it is worth the stress to focus on timing and instead should focus on accomplishing those tasks that develop the framework of our personal life mission statement.
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This is a quote I first heard from Lew Hollinger who completed 58 Ironman Triathlons - his last at age 82.
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Mike Regan
6/3/2018 10:42:19 pm
Obviously the topic of death is not an easy one to discuss, That said, we all will reach the finish line. So do we run across and finish strong or finish with wishes still inside of us? For me I'd like to go and be able to say "what a ride?"
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Betsy
6/3/2018 11:53:13 pm
These posts are all great and conversation worthy-bravo!
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Steve
6/4/2018 08:50:22 am
First, I prefer the attitude, "I've decided to live forever.......so far, so good!" I figure I am guaranteed to die doing something I love because I love LIVING! As one guy said decades ago while as I recall, he was in the process of sharing a joint, "sheer existence is such a gas that it blows my mind!"
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6/4/2018 09:40:59 am
Nice job. Reminds me of what you want to hear when you're dying: "Look, he's still breathing "
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Joe Geiger
6/4/2018 08:53:26 pm
I am fortunate enough to be living every day doing what I love. Should I be taken a few minutes from now, it would be "doing what I love". I wish everyone could be so lucky!
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Marilyn Seymann
6/5/2018 10:00:49 am
Another thoughtful topic disguised with only the Michael humor touch. Thanks for underlining the joy of living.
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Barbara Toch
6/5/2018 12:20:51 pm
Good point, Michael! Having just lost 3 close friends, none of whom were doing what they loved at the time, I'm more of the mindset to live NOW because you never know when your number will be called. My mantra has become -- One day you will be a memory, make it a good one.
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Who writes this stuff?Dadwrites oozes from the warped mind of Michael Rosenbaum, an award-winning author who spends most of his time these days as a start-up business mentor, book coach, photographer and, mostly, a grandfather. All views are his alone, largely due to the fact that he can’t find anyone who agrees with him. Archives
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