The funeral was wonderful. I know, you are thinking that is a terrible thing to say. It sounds like those attending were glad to be rid of him. Quite the contrary.
Frank’s death sentence began at birth or at conception for many. Life is a death sentence for which there is no reprieve or appeal. For Frank, life had a pretty good run. But for many less lucky, life was short, often painful and even tragic. Who gets to plan life’s course? Much depends on the cards you’re dealt as well as how they’re played.
Frank got some good cards and he did play them well. He learned early to please his parents in order to win favor and privileges. The bed was made and he acquired a nice bike. He picked up the dishes and he got camping equipment. He wrapped Christmas presents for his parents, his sister and even Baxter- the family dog and he got his driving permit the day after his 16th birthday.
Frank launched himself into the world or college, graduate school, jobs and family. Every move was carefully planned and executed. Frank was on the varsity team of life. He played the game of life very well. He was lucky too- avoiding untoward events in life such as deadly diseases, war, severe accidents, hurricanes and wildfires. He invested well and died with considerable wealth.
The crowd at the funeral sang and prayed for Frank, even though his game was over. They listened to a sermon extolling his virtues and promising him a better life in the Hereafter. The thoughts of the worshipers tended to wander a bit. Some imagined this better life to include a round of golf with Jesus himself. They wondered what Jesus’ handicap might be given his perfection in all things. Others may have imagined less favorable outcomes- such as Frank shoveling coal in the fires of Hell. Most attendees just drifted off in their thoughts, perhaps thinking about the delicious spread they hoped awaited them after the funeral.
In good time, the rituals were concluded. Family and friends gathered at the Club’s ballroom for the sendoff. As usual, Frank planned this final chapter well. Tables displayed the artifacts of his many interests, hobbies and creative pursuits- as well has many photos of family gatherings. Most paused to recall events of the past. Some commented on his paintings, ceramics, photos and objects of art acquired in his world travels. His life’s work lay on five tables.
Priscilla, Franks’s closest cousin stood before the writers’ table. She and her husband, Bill, looked over the various books and essays that Frank produced in his later years. Judging by the size of the collection, taking up one full table, it was apparent that Frank’s main passion was writing. He started and promoted at least three writers’ groups- each with a name and display of some of the group’s productions, as well as some of his own work. Priscilla pointed to the big bowl in the center of the table. The card before it read, in bold letters- “Prompts”. She nudged Bill- “What do you think about that?” Bill chuckled a bit. “Funny. He’s still working on his writing even though he’s dead.”
In the bowl, lay scores of pieces of paper. Each was folded. There were no instructions on the card before the bowl- just the word “Prompts”. Bill leaned over to whisper in Priscilla’s ear. “I guess we should take a prompt. It’s what he wanted.” She nodded and the both looked around to see if it was OK. Seeing no objection they boldly reached over and took a prompt. Priscilla tipped her head as if to see it from a different angle allowing a new set of brain cells the opportunity to catch the meaning. Bill just smiled. They exchanged their prompts and silently nodded approval. Her prompt read- “Writing creates new life”. Bill’s prompt said “Color it yellow”. For quite a long moment they stood silent, thinking.
Everyone who passed by paused then reached into the bowl to grab a prompt. Most seemed to read it carefully. All were eager to share their prompts. Some laughed, some were a bit annoyed at the vagueness, some shared a philosophical comment related to life and death. Still, this writing appetizer did not deter them from the abundance of the actual buffet, filled with exotic new flavors and textures for all to try.
As they parted all were given a sealed envelope with the words “Final Prompt” on it. They were instructed to take it home and read it at some quiet time in their evening..
Priscilla and Bill sat before the fireplace sipping a brandy. The fire crackled and popped. Bill broke the peaceful, quiet mood. “Is this the right quiet time to open the Final Prompt?” Priscilla nodded and they both eagerly opened the same prompt, as did all of the funeral attendees at roughly the same time.
Five two word sentences said it all- “Ignore limitations. Avoid expectations. Reach higher. Stretch wider. Become yourself.”.