10 things you’d want to be said at your funeral! Have you ever thought about that?
I have. (Yeah, unfortunately, that’s how my mind works.)
My grandmother had a term she used about aging. She called it “the approaching Shade.” That’s so poetic and melancholy.
Sometimes I think about the approaching Shade. Not in a morbid way at all. It’s just a sweet way of realizing that I have more behind me than I do ahead of me, and that’s okay.
BUT – I have zero desire to be leaving this physical plane anytime soon. I have a lot to do yet.
So. 10 things you’d want to be said at your funeral. Coming up with that list can be an enlightening exercise.
Here’s my 10.
- Tony was my go-to person for all things Disney. By his own admission, his passion for the Mouse was inexplicable. He was a fountain of Disney trivia, he considered Walt Disney World his second home, and if you were planning a trip yourself, he’d put together the ultimate experience for you. I’m surprised he’s not being buried in mouse ears.
- Tony loved performing magic. He never was all that good, but people laughed and enjoyed themselves. That was more than sufficient.
- Tony was a more-than-decent cook. He was absorbed by the Food Network. Turn him loose in the kitchen and he was a happy guy. And grilling? Give that boy a spatula, a properly heated and prepared grill, and some red meat, and he was good to go. He was an unrepentant carnivore. Well, actually an omnivore. There was only one food in all creation he wouldn’t eat – coconut. He didn’t like the way it looked, the way it smelled, its texture. He didn’t want to see a picture of it on a box. He didn’t even want you to eat it. He wanted to at least be able to tolerate it before he died. That didn’t happen.
- Tony loved to travel. There was always somewhere else to go and see and do. He was as comfortable in an urban setting as he was in nature. Well rounded, yes? He’d soak up those experiences like a sponge. He always said he preferred mountains to the beach, but in later years decided the beach was okay. He liked the water. If told, “Here’s a towel. I want you to spread it out on that unbearably hot white dirt and lay on it. I want the sun to cook you to a neon pink,” then he would scream and run.
- Tony was not vain. He would have like to have been “dapper,” but that involved too much work, and he cordially detested having to wear a necktie.
- Tony was self-depreciating. He was never hesitant to poke fun at himself, and he never, ever wanted to take himself too seriously. “Contempt” might be too strong a word, but he tended to be annoyed by people who did take themselves too seriously. He believed that many of the problems of the world stemmed from humorless people who couldn’t see the absurdity of their own words and deeds. “Lighten up,” he’d say.
- Tony’s sense of humor was warped. He loved satire. He loved seeing the high and mighty lampooned. His humor wasn’t vulgar, but it could sometimes be construed as inappropriate. For instance, he loved a good meme dealing with COVID-19. Some folks didn’t get that. At all.
- Tony was an introvert. A textbook introvert. He loved his own company. He could mix and mingle and engage with the best of them, because he genuinely loved people. But after having to people too much, he’d have to go lay down. Sometimes he’d just get tired of folks. He could engage in small talk, but only in limited doses. When he was with you, he’d try to steer the conversation toward the meaning of life, what you’d observed about the unfolding of the world, and your dreams, goals, and aspirations. He wanted to know what you believed was your purpose in being here. He could do that for hours. He was an INFJ, and took some sort of misplaced pride in being part of the rarest of personality types – like anyone else cared!
- Tony loved his family with a passion that was terrifying. His wife Teresa was his helpmeet and his pillar. He loved his extraordinarily different kids, Jeremy and Amy, who grew up to be honorable, ambitious young adults, and loved his in-laws, Kathleen and Stone. But those grandkids – Katherine and Levi – would absolutely cause him to lose his mind and all semblance of control. In his latter years those two were the best thing that ever happened to him.
- Tony loved God. He was a disciple of Jesus Christ and served at His pleasure. The most important words he ever wanted to hear were “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Because of that relationship, Tony felt that his calling was simply to be an encourager.
That, folks, is what I would want to be said at my funeral. What are 10 things you’d want to be said at your funeral?
I have a lot to do to live up to my own desires. But I have some time yo work on that still. Don’t I, Lord?
Be blessed.
Tony’s Question: How about you?? What 10 things would you want to be said at your funeral? How about sharing just one of those below.
Oh, yeah … I’m taking a week-long break from the blog while I do a little vacay action. See y’all later!