When I Die

When I die, say what you want to say, not what you think should be said. No forced jovialities, no overlying themes, no required party lines. Say what you feel inside you. Make it real. Give me genuine.

No one should feel pressured to mention God. He wants your honesty as much as I do. Don’t express hope unless you feel it. Find the line between sorrow and joy and walk wherever you want. Cross the line. Pretend it doesn’t exist.

Funerals are for the living. The words spoken should help the speaker as much, if not more, than the listeners.

Tell them that no one knows where I am now but I had faith and that’s all that matters.

Tell them I felt every minute of my rich, little, boring life. That I was deeply blessed and not grateful enough to deserve the countless beautiful infinities that made my life good. Tell them that my life was filled with warmth, laughter, pain, and faith and that was more than enough for me.

Tell them Hemingway made me cry and Bill Bryson made me laugh. Tell them the best moments of my life nearly always involved being around water and that long car rides with the people I loved on our way to adventures filled my heart with joy. Make sure they know that some infinities are bigger than other infinities but that I remembered them all.

Give my pearls to my sister, my Mexican bracelets to Karen, and my clothes to Jacinta.

Give my books to everyone. People will know what they need to take. But take This Side of Paradise to a used book store where it will be discovered and appreciated by someone new. Someone like me.

Tell them I loved them. Oh, lord, let them know how I loved them with every fiber of my being, my whole life long.

Tell Jacinta she was my other half and she will roll her eyes because she knew that already but she also knew that I needed to tell her one last time. Tell Karen she was the special one in all the best ways and she will understand. Tell Victor he saved me; tell Tiffany and Victoria that they were my favorite companions. Tell my mother she made me, my father that I loved him for all the ways he tried his hardest. Tell my brothers they made my life good and tell my sister she made me proud.

Tell the people I haven’t met yet the things they need to hear, the things that are real. Make sure they know, that they all know, that the best parts of me were what I learned from all of them.

And when my heart no longer beats, tell them that it’s carried in theirs now.

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) ~ ee cummings

Note: A dear family friend passed away very suddenly this past week and after his funeral today, I was struck with thoughts of how delicate the thoughts voiced at funerals often are, and the sentiments that I would want to leave behind after my death. And so I wrote this. Names not changed because of artistic license.