In a day and age when the events in Tiananmen Square arrive to my inbox in less than 14 nanoseconds and the accompanying pictures make it home in less time than it used to take to turn on my Polaroid I am forced to admit that I do not quite understand the events that took place this morning.
While doing a Google search for my company and the information available to prospective clients over the net I came across a rather startling piece of information.
Apparently, I am deceased.
Like my mother before me (August of this year, in fact) the news of my demise arrive well after the actual event.
In point of fact I kicked the bucket in October of this year, well over 2 weeks ago, and no one had the courtesy to inform me at the time.
The event took place in a State that I had never been to, in a town whose name I have never heard of in a hospital that I had no previous knowledge of (but the staff was so terribly kind).
I was succeeded by a devoted spouse of 33 years who loved me dearly (who I have unfortunately never had the opportunity to meet) and grieves inconsolably, 4 darling children (who I have no memory of having ever given birth to but have somehow managed to inherit both my charm and my eyes) who are collectively and individually heartbroken, 8 incredibly delightful and endearing grandchildren who I have no recollection of having ever met but suffer in muted silence at the loss of the munificent grandmother that I was.
The article does not mention my cause of death nor does it hint at lingering diseases, untimely accidents or unfortunate yet uncontrollable events so I do not know what took my blessed soul from me so suddenly but it does state that my coffin was white, the roses were, well, rose and the ceremony was both sad and uplifting and attended by a rousing crowd of friends, family and business associates…all duly bereft and bewildered (not more than I!).
At the time of my death I was as yet, in the prime of my life and ready to embrace my retirement years wholeheartedly.
The music that I had chosen was Bach, the priest youngish but more than competent and the sermon verbose (kind of like me).
Now, I seem to find myself in a conundrum. Being that I am no longer of this earth and have been thus so for over a fortnight I do not quite know how to act.
Should I lie down and allow history to catch up with me or should I remain standing and feint surprise?
What is the proper decorum for a previously deceased person who has just recently received the information of their demise? Is there an Emily Post on Death, Dying and you are Done?
All of this emotion seems to have winded me some so I think that I will just lay my head down for a moment and take a nap (should I be crossing my arms over my chest?)
In the case that I do not wake from this short snooze please be advised that it is pointless to cry for you apparently already have.
I do not wish to be buried in a white lacquered, ebony coffin (with bronze handles…) for I already have been and to be quite honest, it was a bit much.
I would prefer white roses to pink and please, for the love of God, no lilies, the smell makes my head turn.
A Rabbi would be most appropriate being that I have already had a priest and one Catholic Funeral ceremony is about all that I can take for now.
As for the music, I agree with my previous incarnation that Bach is still most appropriate but if you care to add a little Jean-Jacque Goldman (Rod Stuart is good too) to the mix, I would not be miffed.
And if I should wake from this long night (or short nap) of sleep, what then?
I’ll just have to let you know.
'The Late' Sharon
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