Memento Mori

"Let us prepare our minds as if we'd come to the very end of life. Let us postpone nothing. Let us balance life's books each day.... The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time." --Seneca 

Caveat: This post involves a discussion of death. If you are sensitive about this topic, or you feel it is “too morbid” (as Mom used to say)—then all the more reason for you to read on.

Spoiler alert: We’re all going to die. I mean, seriously, folks; no one gets out alive.

Well, Boomers, it’s been a good run. We had the Beatles (or, if you prefer, the Stones), the sexual revolution, the signing of the Civil Rights Act, and we watched a man walk on the moon. We witnessed the end of apartheid in South Africa. We learned how to use computers so we could forward funny emails and see photos of our grandkids on Facebook. We were dragged into using smart phones—but now we never put them down so we can post even more pictures of our grandkids—and our pets, who are now our “babies”—on Facebook (and, if we’re still learning, on Twitter and Instagram). We can now embrace our gay and transgender friends in public, and we can happily introduce them as “married” or whatever. We elected a President of African descent.

On the flip side (for those of you unfamiliar with the term, it has to do with turning over a vinyl record), we participated in global warming. We struggled through the Vietnam War era, whether we agreed or disagreed with that military action. We saw heroes like Martin Luther King, Jr. (and many, many others) shot down (or lynched or beaten) for their stand against injustice. We witnessed the horror of September 11, 2001. (Just writing that sentence brought tears to my eyes.)

And now this. Medical authorities are still gathering data and creating statistical models, but at this point it looks like, if you’re my age, 1 in 10 of you will die if you are infected with COVID-19. Your risk is higher than the general population if you have “underlying respiratory issues.”

And, Boomers, who doesn’t? We’ve got asthma, COPD, emphysema, and, in my case, bronchiectasis from all those cigarettes we smoked and joints we passed around. (Well, not in my case; I’m a non-smoker who, to this date, has still never taken a toke from a doobie, but I do have congenital bronchiectasis.)

So, my question is, what are you doing while you’re waiting to die? Just sitting there? Wringing your hands and worrying that you’re next in line for the Grim Reaper’s knock at the door?

Stop. Stop it right now. Okay, go wash your hands thoroughly then come back.

Feel better? Good. Now make a plan.

Is your will up to date? If not, get ‘er done today.

Have you written out plans for your demise? (Do Not Resuscitate! Play James Taylor songs at my memorial service. Spread my ashes in Missouri. Whatever you do, don’t take Thomas off of Science Diet dog food!)

Speaking of pets: I’ve written out instructions as to how to feed my crew. My son (bless him!) has promised to come from Ohio and stay in my house and care for “my fur babies” should I need to be hospitalized.

Which reminds me: I need to leave instructions on how to pay the rent.

And, hey kids! All my log-in passwords are in the…. Oh wait. I’d better tell them that privately.

With all of those instructions laid out, what is left for you to ‘balance life’s books’? Where do you need to add the “finishing touches”? We are all going to transition eventually. Let’s don’t leave a tangled mess for our kids to sort through.

That was a lesson I learned from my mom. In the months before her death—even though she wasn’t sick—she took me and my brother aside to explain her finances, her life insurance policies, and the pre-paid plans for her cremation and memorial services. What a relief and a blessing it was that, in our grief, few decisions had to be made.

I’m kicking myself now for not pre-paying my cremation. Sorry, kids. Take it out of my bank account.

Last week, our biggest problem was finding toilet paper. This week, our biggest problem has been finding food. Next week, our greatest sorrow will be when our friends or family members become ill or pass away, and we cannot be with them to comfort them or say good-bye. (Which is another point taken; start saying your I love yous to everyone now.)

Grief will shut us down quick, make no mistake about that.

In the meantime, keep moving forward. Here, I’ll leave you with a quote from another one of our heroes, Sylvester Stallone:

“You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward….”

PS: I love you.