If Words Could Talk

Death Comes But Once

Once upon a time, I had a death-defying experience. A roof tile felt the tug of gravity, loss of a nail and fell in search of my head, which it found after bouncing off a patio umbrella.

I didn’t see any bright light with shadowy figures euphorically waiting for me. I saw nothing but a flash, followed by a lapse of time, and I woke up in a world of muted light, numbness, a sense of unreality and in a bad mood (similar to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese).

If I had died, the actual moment of death wouldn’t have been so terrible; it would have been quick. But it’s not the dying part that’s for the pits; it’s the poking, prodding and pricking all made worthwhile with the "happy pills" available every four hours.

While in one of those in-and-out hazes, I decided to write a column about death. As Woody Allen said, "I’m not afraid of dying. I just don’t want to be there when it happens."

To prepare you for the inevitable, I learned that Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross has defined the psychological cycle you would go through if you were officially informed that you were going to die before your next vacation.

1. Shock—"No" is the first word out of your mouth.

2. Denial—"This is not happening to me" is next.

3. Anger—you blame everybody, including Chuck E. Cheese.

4. Bargaining—you promise to be good.

5. Grieving—there aren’t enough pills to cure the depression.

6. Acceptance—you put your affair in order. (Or is it "affairs"?)

I’ve seen people have the same emotional reactions to a parking ticket.

Everything surrounding death is ritualistic and based upon warding off the evil spirits that turned Uncle Fred into vulture takeout. Did you know that vultures will not eat you if you have a pulse? Or was that a purse?

I unearthed the Funeral Directors Association headquartered in Bonedale, Neb. to get to the bottom of our fear of death. A spokesperson said, "Death is such a taboo subject that we are almost in denial. It’s almost like it’s a punishment or the ultimate medical surrender rather than just a part of life." My reporter instinct told me that I was going to be verbally embalmed with facts.

So, I decided to continue without them.

Did you ever notice how a pet is "put to sleep" or how friends have "passed away"?

There are lots of euphemisms for dying in Roget’s Thesaurus. When you meet your maker, perhaps one of these will be used to describe you tailgating with the angels: passed over, looking down, deceased, taken, depart this life, drop dead, give up the ghost, kick the bucket, buy the farm, in a better place and gone to your reward.

Now, those are sanitized just like today’s funerals, which are really reunions of family and friends to remind us of the inevitable free meal. However, there is a glimmer of hope because some folks do request a "good time" funeral that’s not somber and grief-stricken but one where the tears are shed in pain and joy at a nice restaurant over bottles of Two-Buck-Chuck wine.

So I researched a lighter approach, one more likely to be spoken between surviving friends depending upon your former occupation: Reformatted, Achieving Warp Zero, Basting the Formaldehyde Turkey, Permanently Out of Print, It Doesn’t Matter If You’ve Got Mail, On the Unable to Breathe List, Traded to the Angels, Visiting the Chat Tomb, Discontinued, Warranty Voided, The Final Edit, No Longer Able to See the Sexiest Women on the Web and License Expired. I enjoy these so much that I have to stop (but you can add your own).

There are some really unusual ways to be remembered after you’ve done your last commute and I’ll touch on those next time, along with the morbid behind-the-scenes stuff that you secretly want to know about but aren’t going to ask.

I did come across two very apt proverbs about death: "Birth is the messenger of death" and "At birth we cry: at death we see why." Now, aren’t those jolly?

But my preferred ending is: And he lived happily ever after. The End.